


Spirit's Ichor

by SinisterSleepDrifter



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety Disorder, Comfort Reading, Comfort/Angst, Dom Solas (Dragon Age), Dragon Age II Spoilers, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Jealousy, Mages, Memory Loss, Multi, Multiple Partners, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spoilers, Tevinter Imperium (Dragon Age), Time Shenanigans, Yandere, yandere behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 39,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26488171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinisterSleepDrifter/pseuds/SinisterSleepDrifter
Summary: You have been serving under the senior Magister Gereon Alexius for as long as you can remember.Illegally taken from your Dalish clan in the Exalted Plains, you have no identity outside of being a servant. Only kept because of your ability to withstand harsh magical research. You knew if you told anyone you could cast spells, you'd be made tranquil immediately. Without proper training, you wouldn't make it passed the first Magister you stumble into.Confined in a stone room, you have no idea what happens outside Alexius' castle in Minrathous. Until a friendly spirit finds you. He tells you that he will help. But after a quick promise, you are left alone again. Then the walls shake. You hear screams and whirlwinds of spells outside your room. Minrathous was under attack.
Relationships: Cole & Female Lavellan (Dragon Age), Cole/Original Female Character(s), Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Original Female Character(s), Fenris (Dragon Age)/Original Female Character(s), Fenris/Female Lavellan (Dragon Age)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

Alexius stands over me, watching coils of green magic snake along my body. I can't tell what it's doing, but I can feel my heart slow dangerously down. My eyes arching wildly, faster than should be possible. I try to guess what spell this is, my lack of arcane knowledge once again hindering me. The Spellbinders beside Alexius ignore my floundering to write whatever it is they deem essential. 

"More." Alexius' critical eyes never stray from me. I feel a surge of more of this strange magic pushed on to me. It doesn't sink into my bones like most spells they use on me. This sits airily on top of my skin. With invisible fingers, it grips my naked body with almost mechanical efficiency. Where my eyes couldn't stop moving quickly before, now every part of my body freezes altogether. The Zealots and Magisters next to me don't stop moving but slow considerably. I'm able to get a good view of the face in the chamber. Someone new stands off to Alexius's side, his olive skin and black hair making Master's completion that much paler. He leans casually along with one of the many lab tables set up around the room. He's the picture of calm and relaxed, hold for the unnatural tightening at his eyes as he avoids looking down at me.

Pressure builds steadily in my head, behind my eyes, until I think they'll pop out of my head. I hardly notice the twinge in my nose and the feeling of hot blood running down both sides of my face. The bursts of blood reach my ears' points and fill them, making Alexius' voice all the more muddled. 

"Stop." My Master's voice draws out sluggishly, still affected by whatever magic this is. It takes a few more seconds before the Spellbinders extinguish their magic. They say nothing yet quickly jot more notes down. I feel like I have been dragged through the Veil and back multiple times. Though, that's not likely considering I never left my spot on the specimen table, chained down as I am. 

"Bring her to the courtyard. I want to try it out on the Fade Rift." Alexius curtly turns and leaves for the hidden courtyard next to the live-research chamber. 

"Are you sure you want to test it against a Rift so soon, Alexius?" The newcomer asks. His voice is rich, and lilting is a calming sort of way. His green eyes hold guilt when they look back at mine. "Wouldn't you agree that two forms of magic we don't quite understand shouldn't be mixed?" 

"I've no time for your fears, Dorian. We need to test it against the Fade Rifts sooner or later. I'd rather it be sooner." Master snaps back, giving a feverous glance at Felix, who sits towards the chamber's back. Alexius rarely keeps him out of his sight at all these days, and I'd be lying if I hadn't noticed Felix's sudden weight loss and clammy skin. "Bring the rattus now."

With no further prompting, two Zealots unlock my restains and yank me up by my shoulders. My head lolls heavily to one side, and I can't seem to lift my knees up fast enough to stop myself from dragging against the marbled floors. The Zealot on my right must get annoyed by my stumbling as he pulls my head up by my hair and kicks my legs out in front of me. It doesn't help me catch my balance; however, I am now able to see what's ahead.

"Filthy knife-ear." The other mumbles. I ignore him. Their words don't hurt me anymore. I'd prefer those over everything else. 

We eventually reach the inner corridor facing the hidden courtyard. Alexius stands with his back to us, facing the radiant green rip in the air outside. Thick glass windows line the hallways to keep the demons from coming in. Also set up for the Magister's protection is the static cage surrounding the Rift. Spellbinders easily create an opening in this cage, allowing the Zealots to push me through. My momentum, plus my lack of resistance, sends me careening through the loose rocks of the yard. Because this courtyard is only meant to house the Fade Rift and other experiments, Alexius thought it better to fill it with gravel instead of grass, which brings mud and insects. I've spent many years of my life in this courtyard, pitted against every kind of weapon and monster my Master has created or conjured, only through the wills and curse of The Creators that I have been able to live this long. My Master, Alexius, has gone through many Elven slaves in his never-ending desire for magical advancement. 

The group of Dalish Elves I was brought into Tevinter with were all bought by Alexius. My earliest memory was in that wagon cage. Smooshed into the back corner, the cold metal bars cutting into my sides with every bump in the road. There were thirty of us all crammed in there. Though I can't remember if any of them were part of my clan or not. I was kept separate from the rest of the group after our purchase because of my age. I was the youngest out of everyone brought in: only five years old. Alexius used my uniqueness for his research's benefit. Dalish children are very rarely caught. Even rarer: able to survive the journey to Tevinter. By the time I reached adolescence, the rest of the elves were gone. Then I was kept because of my resilience. 

Felix, Alexius' son, would occasionally seek me out from my confinement in the research wing of Alexius castle. He was a great company during those long weeks when I would be forgotten, always bringing me extra portions of his food when the Zealots failed to bring me mine. He would tell me fantastical stories from his magic training- he came into his powers early- which gave me my minimal understand of casting spells. But then Master found out about his visits. That prompted my first beating. Felix never came to visit me after that. To keep my mind off that loneliness, I tried for hours in that locked room to conjure even the smallest amount of magic. I hadn't known at the time that not everyone was born a mage. Everyone I knew at that time had magic. Except for me, I began to think. It wasn't until I woke up on my cot one night uncomfortably hot that I realized Felix wasn't the only five-year-old mage. The fire I accidentally conjured burned my bedding clean away, and if it weren't for the stone walls and floors, my abilities would have been found out. I was so excited to show everyone my magic. I thought they'd let me out of my room and go to class with Felix. Thankfully, I never got the chance to tell anyone that day before I was brought out to serve Alexius in his throne room. I was meant to walk around with refreshments for Master's guests as they sat and watched mages become Tranquil. I saw as humans, Quiaris, and Elves were lined up and had their magic stripped from them. Before each removal, the court ambassador would explain why each person was being punished—crimes against Tevinter, unpaid debts, adultery with a noble... and on and on and on. I was worst that all of those people, I would definitely have my magic taken away if they knew I had it. So I kept it to myself for fifteen years. 

Even now, as I watch demons drip down from the Fade Rift, I can feel my wild magic rise. I have to tamp it down. I can't use it. Master can't know I possess magic. 

A Wrath demon raises its arms, shooting hot magic at me. I manage to roll away in time, but I have to force myself to stand and dodge another lob. A clamber at my feet makes me look down. An angled blade is thrown through the cage, telling me that they want me to fight as opposed to just avoiding. I scramble to pick up the dagger as a lesser Shade glides over to me. It throws its arms back to slam into me a half a second after I duck out of the way. Ignoring the pain twisting up my body, I manage to deliver a successful flank attack before stepping back again. It turns quicker than I'm prepared for, though. I try to parry, but the time it takes to raise my dagger to block, I can tell I will be too slow. Suddenly both the Shade and I are captured in a green hue. His attack lands exactly how I predicted but faster than it should be. My dagger still raises too late, but my arms move with supernatural speed. I'm sent flying backward from the Shade and land outside the range of the Spellbinder's magic. Time normally flows again, for me at least. The Shade, however, doesn't seem to release it being affected. It stays standing in the circular green spot of magic on the ground. With a quickness, I couldn't dream of evading, the Shade sends fireball after fireball at me. Again my magic rears up within me, and it's ultimately the fear of my Master that keeps me from casting anything. 

Flames lick up the sides of my face and burn through pieces of my matted hair. Fire engulfs my head for the slip second I spend to scream in anguish. Then, my survival instincts have me slapping at the flames. I throw myself onto the ground to smother the blaze. Pebbles stick to my sweat-slick skin and push into the soft skin of my eyelids. Yet the fire goes out hesitantly. 

The crunchy sound of Spellbinders altering the static cage both relieve and terrify me. They've never been called to retrieve me so soon after they put me in the cage. Master must be frustrated with the results I gave him. Now I wish to stay out here with the demons. But of course, I can't avoid punishment for long. Two different Zealots come and drag me out of the arena as Venatori Butes are set upon the unleashed spirits. 

Master is nowhere to be seen when I'm taken back into the castle. I brought to the dungeon's torture chamber like I thought I would be. Instead, I am set on the floor of my isolation room. This is really surprising because, usually, after an experiment, they take me to the observation room. Maybe that magic was meant for the Rift? Then why was I subjected to it before the Rift? I don't expect an answer to any of these questions. I learned many years ago how pointless it is to speculate. 

Left alone once more, I start to count out loud. Whispering up until one-hundred -the highest number I know- then start again at one. I go through this cycle four times, trying to ignore the tight agony from my burns. At least this pain is growing out the sensation of stretched muscles and ligaments from before. I run a shaking hand through the melted ends of my hair. The knotted red mane is more of a bushy garland. The length halts my breath, and I completely forget what number I was on. 

I hated my long hair when I had it, but it was the only thing that was mine, that I made myself. I glance around the empty stone room. It's long enough for me to lay comfortably but not wide enough for me to lay against the back wall without pulling my legs in. They never replaced my cot -do they even realize it's gone?- so for the past fifteen years, my body of skin and bone as been forced to conform to the large cobbles of the floor. I. Had. Nothing. Else.

Dried blood leftover from my nosebleed earlier still paints my face. Flecks of it fall to the dim floor as I draw my lips back in a savage snarl. I race up to slam against the far wall of my room. Belting my hands viciously across the rough stonework. I unhinge my jaw to scream in frustration, but even now, I can't bring myself to make a sound, afraid to provoke a beating. Instead, hot tears rush down my face, washing the blood away and painfully brushing the white blisters alone, my cheeks and neck. I beat the stones until a resounding snap has me hissing in misery. I drop my head as I slide down the cold rocks. The tears won't stop despite when my anger suddenly dissipates as if it were never really there.

"Anger like a festering wound. Hunger like a gnawing dog. The confusion that blisters into frustration." A stronger yet soft voice crawls from the door to where I snivel from the floor. "You wish to make your Master happy but for selfish reasons. Although they aren't really selfish reasons. You think dying will be your only way out of here to avoid his wrath." 

I don't say anything; I simply stare at this mirage of a man. He crouches to speak to me, a curious glitter to his eyes that reminds me of Alexius. Except there is no malicious or disgust in this man's gaze. I blink once, twice, then fear comes back to me. I stand as quickly as I can and hesitantly reach to push him towards the door, though I stop short of actually touching him. 

"Did Felix send you? You can't be in here." I nervously whisper back. I make a shooing motion when he doesn't move. "Master will punish you, then me. Please." I force out harshly. Does he no know what will happen? What has happened before? 

"It's alright. You're going to be safe soon, I promise." He breaches the gap between us, cupping both my cheeks in his hands—their cold but not clammy. I give a hard flinch at his touch. Nevertheless, he keeps his hold on me. His glassy, pale blue eyes stare right back into mine. "Like emeralds." He hums out contently.

"What?" I breathe out before I realize he is no longer holding me. Once again, I am alone in my room. 

It's days later, and my encounter with the mystery man is already buried into the deeper recesses of my lapsing mind. I have to wonder if he was real or if hallucination were just an unforeseen side-effect of whatever magic I was testing that day. My blisters have begun to burst from my constant throat movements. Still, I can't stop my compulsion to count. I'm still whispering the numbers when the distant shriek of the castle's emergency alarm penetrates my stone walls. Again I am stunned into silence. I've only heard those sirens once before, and it ended with thousands of dead Elves. The walls start shaking as if barely holding against explosions when a familiar voice murmurs into my ear,

"Let me help you, Emeralds."


	2. Chapter 2

"E-emeralds?" I stutter.   
So much is happening, yet I'm stuck on this name. Or nickname? I've never had a name -or a nickname that wasn't a slur, for that matter. However, he doesn't linger on it as another blast rocks the floor. My knees give out, and I'm forced to grapple at the walls to keep myself from falling. Slender hands steady me at my waist. I look up to find his eyes already on mine. His beryl eyes seem to probe into my psyche.   
"Bones brittle like his patience. Perverse unconditional love for those who don't know it. I can see your hatred and devotion battle -scrapping up your insides until only a void remains." Those eyes glaze over as he feverously spits out line after line. When he's done, he blinks dully before refocusing on me. "Can you walk?" He asks. His voice a mixture of strength and serenity. 

"I can walk, sir," I answer, realizing a bit too late that my Master might have sent him as a sort of test. Maybe Alexius is giving me a chance to prove my loyalty by sending this oddly charming man? "But you need to leave." As I step back, his hands remain. The tips of his fingers dig in ever so gently, although he doesn't pull me back. 

He ignores my warning by grabbing my wrist, lightly tugging it in the direction of the door. "We can leave this way. But hurry, these men become angry when denied what they want." 

I rip my hand away from his, thankful he didn't grab the other one. The fingers on my right hand still throb in time with my racing heart. When I punched the wall a few days ago, I heard a snap, though I could bend all of them fair enough. I back up into the furthest corner from him, hiding both hands behind my back. My eyes shoot down to our feet, breaking the intense eye contact that makes it harder to think.

"I can't leave my room unless my Master calls for me." I stand my ground, not whispering anymore incase Alexius or a Zealot is listening. Alexius must know I would never be disloyal to him, even if it leaves a pit in my stomach to say 'no' to what this man offers. 

"Devotion bought in the blood of the devotee—cramped rooms full of hollow voices and ideas of warped affection. Your worship of Alexius will only lead to death. It shouldn't be your responsibility to work for love. Let me help you." He reaches out to me once more.

Suddenly his head whips to face the door. The sounds of hurried footsteps pass us by. I can hear the crack of spells clamber through the air, a steady draft wafting in from the steel door's bottom. Fear whirls through me, holding me frozen in place. I can't tell if I'm afraid of failing this test or just from simple confusion -I don't know. The anticipation of punishment is always worse. Though, the aftermath of it is a close second. Should I scream for help? Or wait for him to leave on his own? Both options seem wrong. 

"Where is my Master?" I barely force out, unable to stop the fear trilling in my voice. My magic reaches up from my chest to pool along the beds of my nails. I curl my fingers in, squeezing as tight as I can. "I can't leave without his permission." 

Without taking his eyes off the door, he speaks again, "It'll be alright. Please trust me." In a burst of smoke, he disappears at the same time the door whips open. A Zealot steps into the room takes one glance, and curses under his breath. He turns and hightails it further down the hall, leaving me in a daze. 

"H-he left the door open?" I can't even bring myself to move out of the corner, worried that as soon as I take a step, Alexius will be there. I will fail his test and be sent back to the dungeon as punishment. I pull my hands in front of me to worry them as I think over what to do. A small gasp escapes me when I try looking down at my hands. I can feel them but can't see them. I look down at my body or lack thereof. 

"They won't see us as long as you stay with me." I hear the man to the left of me, the feeling of his hands clasping mine tug me toward the door. My weak attempts to break his hold are met with an even tighter grasp. 

"Stop! Master! Master help!" I scream out in one last-ditch effort to show Alexius I don't want to leave -I'm being forced. He has to know that I want to stay! As I open my mouth to scream again, the sensation of a palm on my forehead makes my voice crack and die. Just like the magic I've been subjected to before, I feel it's tendrils thread through my mind, giving me an unnatural calm. 

"I'm sorry. But I have to." His words reach me from the fog that overtakes my body. I can't help the heaviness of my lids anymore than I can stop him from throwing me over his shoulder. My muscles are compelled to relax. It's all I can do to keep my eyes open as I watch the marble floors fly by. The blares of sirens and shouts have turned into muffed vibrations. The further he takes me from my room. I feel the air compress as a mage zips towards us, his voice the last thing I hear before sleep overtakes me. I catch a glimpse of pointed ears and stell-grey eyes.

"Cole, Alexius escaped with a few other mages. The Inquisitor is done here." Then a pause before his voice comes closer. "Who is this?"

What seems to be just moments later, I begin to come back into awareness. The first thing I notice is the soft plush of fabric under my back. My head is comfortably seated in the softest pillow I've ever felt. It takes another second to open my eyes. Blurred shapes hover above me; far enough away, I can't make out their faces even when I squint.

"Master?" I squeak out. My throat feels raw, but I realize nothing else burns, pinches, or throbs. For the first time in my memory, I wake up pain-free. Could I be dead? Then I remember the man in my room, the explosions, everything shaking. I jolt up, my head swiveling erratically. The stone walls calm me somewhat. However, this place is too big to be my room.   
Two narrow windows stand on either side of the wooden door in the center of the far wall. I roll out of my cot swiftly, feeling more energetic than ever. The floors come up to meet me as I fall from the cot. I never encountered a raised bed before. I don't like them, I decide. Fabric falls around me, tangling in my legs and around my neck. I rip at them erratically, hissing poison when the white cloth wrapped around my neck turns out to be tapped on. 

"Stop! You'll reopen your wounds!" A woman's voice cracks across the room. She stands at the end of the bed, a scowl dressed into her face. I instantly twist around and press my back to the wall. I haven't seen too many women in my life. This one shares my ears. She holds her most of her weight in her chest and thighs, her bloody smock laying nicely around her. Her face is flushed in a healthy, cherry red color, and her long forehead arrests the loose strands of her blonde hair with sweat. 

"Who are you? Where am I? Where is the Master?" My babbling is quick, and I slur my words. I stop trying to unravel my gauze at my neck after she gives me another pointed look. The blanket weaved around my legs is bringing back memories of restraints. I try to focus. Now that I'm not flailing, it's a lot easier to unwind the scratchy quilt. One sheet won't come off until I recognize that it's a tunic. They...dressed me?

"You're in Skyhold's infirmary. You had major injures that were becoming infected. You're lucky the Inquisitor has such a bleeding heart for Elves." She huffs, putting her fists on her hips. An agonized moan has us both turning to the cot two down from mine. A young soldier squeezes her eyes closed from some unseen pain. The surgeon rushes over, turning her back to me so she could fuss over her. I take this opportunity to creep to the door. I quietly turn the handle, shocked that it's unlocked, and pray that the hinges don't squeak. Adrenaline barrels through me. My pulse drums against my temples as I snake out the door, taking one last glance to make sure the surgeon is still busy with the solider. 

Sunlight embraces me immediately. My skin, unused to the exposure, drinks in the warmth hungrily. I wish to remain crouched here a few minutes more, yet I can't relax now. A woman with her black hair beautifully braided into a tight crown attacks a practice dummy a few yards away. She hasn't noticed me, even as I make my way passed her. Shouts from the building to my right make me cringe as I pass it. A quick peek in through the stained widows shows the largest group of people I've ever seen. They smile at each other and drink heartily from wooden mugs overflowing with golden foam. It looks even warmer in there. But I can see the open doorway is on the opposite side of where I hide. Turning back to the angry woman, I watch as she delivers an especially brutal blow. Her one-handed sword sings loudly as it strikes the hardwood. She lets out a fury of attacks on the wilting humanoid target as I continue passed her. I'm precisely behind her when she screams in rage and frustration. 

"Varric!" 

What a Varric was, I didn't know. But her abrupt outburst has me breaking out into a run. A stone staircase breezes up to me, and not thinking, I follow it up to a wide entrance. Men and women in noble clothing loiter about the two dining tables, which point to the extravagant throne in the back of the room. I unconsciously breathe in the delicious smell of cooked meats and sweet mystery sauces—my mouth waters. An immediate hunger pang has me racing over to snatch a few slices of something fatty and pink. With no thought, I bump in a noble on my way. The noblewoman wears a porcelain mask and royal navy frills that glide across the floors. She spins on her heels, ready to chew out whoever it was. She takes one look at me and yelps, causing me to kowtow. The cold stone floor bites into my boney knees.

"Sorry. Sorry, Madame. So sorry." I beg at her velvet-tipped feet. My hands are shaking from fear and fatigue. When she doesn't say anything else, I peer up through my eyelashes to find her completely ignoring me. She's turned to speak quietly with the masked man beside her. 

"Don't worry. I made them forget." The man from my room -what did that voice call him?- sits on the dining table, his legs lazily swinging back and forth. 

"You. Where is Master Alexius?" I rise slightly, still keeping one eye on the noblewoman. "Where did you take me?" 

"Somewhere safer. You were dying, Emeralds, in more than one way." I blink, and he disappears. His hands come from behind to pick up mine from the floor. He stands, pulling me up with him. The hold causes me to fall back into his chest. Even through layers of clothing, I can feel the cold he seems to emanate. It feels like a minty balm to my heated skin. 

"The Creators have kept me alive this long. They want me to serve Master Alexius," I retort. Hopefully, I can help him see reason. I need to go back to Alexius before he notices I'm missing. I don't know where we are -Where and what is Skyhold?- or how to get back to my room. However, I have to try before Alexius finds me, and he will find me. 

If only to actually kill me this time.


	3. Chapter 3

His name is Cole. Such a common name for the most peculiar man I've met. He stands as close as I'll let him. My mind is, nonetheless, stuck on the food. 

The throne room bustles with activity, hold for our little pocket of silence right in the center. No one glances in our direction since Cole appeared. Others moving around will occasionally bump into us, but once they turn to either apologize or snap an insult, a haze overtakes them, and they continue on as if nothing occurred. 

"How do you do that?" I ask, allowing his hold to linger a second longer before shaking it away. 

"Do what?" His voice is breathy.

"Make them ignore us. Is this a spell?" 

"No, I just tell them to forget. Like that lady you ran into. They only need the suggestion." 

"So, it is magic." My words come out as a sigh. A mage. He's a mage, and I spoke to him as little more than an equal. My eyes arch through the room, fully expecting Alexius to stroll out from a doorway. Cole was a mage this whole time, and I let him leave with me. But I struggled, I must get some credit!

I fall to my knees, preparing to ask for his forgiveness. 

"Don't tell, my Master." The words are on my tongue's tip when Cole stops me entirely.

"I'm no mage," his tone raising slightly in an almost incredulous way. "I'm simply Cole, Emeralds." He moves to stop my descent to the floor. The rough angles of his hands hook onto my waist.

"Don't call me that." I snap before I can stop myself. My head jerks down, and I anticipate a swift blow to the head. I don't know what came over me. I've never talked back before.

"But I can't find your name. There are empty spaces in you that I can't understand. Where other emotions should be, black tar of fear and hate leave a stain instead. You feel...blank compared to everyone else."

I don't know what to say to that, so I keep my mouth shut. 

"Cole." A familiar voice hails behind me. I recognize it as the one from Minrathis as Cole was running with me on his shoulders. A man a bit taller than Cole stands a few feet from where Cole still holds me. The ash-grey eyes I saw that day narrow suspiciously on me. His ears bend severely back and form sharp points at the ends just like mine do. 

His brow furrows in what I can only guess is an aggravation, but he doesn't say anything. The hall has gone silent as if everyone were holding their breath. At first, I think everyone can see us again. Then, boisterous cheers break the stillness of the room. Three more people enter the hall: two Qunari and an elven woman clasp each other arm-and-arm singing drunkenly. The man lumbers in brandishing an oddly curved war ax. On closer inspection, I realize it's actually a giant claw. It's half the size of the Qunari, who seems to have no trouble carrying it with one arm. 

"Did you see when she reared back to spit those flames at me, Inquisitor? Magnificent! Those vibrations from that final rattle in her throat as she fell? Ataashi!" The massive brute of a Qunari swings his head back haughtily. He squeezes the Qunari woman to the left of him with one arm. That's the Inquisitor? 

"Or how close those jaws came to biting your face off! I feel like I could take on five more of those!" The Elf cackles in some sort of mania. The Qunari woman laughs, unsheathing her two-handed Warhammer to massage her shoulders. All this yelling raises my hackles, and I find myself scooting farther towards the wall. My magic tickles the back of my neck, ready to be used. "No," I inwardly command it. I still feel the Elven man's eyes on me. He is obviously a mage by the staff slung across his back.

"I never thought I'd see a SandyHowler scream like that! She couldn't pin you down, Sera, my little Minx." The Inquisitor's voice is deep and rich, "You and Solas make for good ranged defense." 

Unhooking her arm from the man, the Inquisitor turns to face Sera. With a huff, Sera glances over at the Elven man, who has yet to move away from me.  
"Well, at least he's alright at something besides babbling elf-y things and being a nit in my hair." She pokes her tongue out. This time Solas swings his head back to glare at her. They must both be city Elves because their faces are free of ink.  
Ignoring Solas' glower, Sera turns back to the Inquisitor. The Elf pulls her face down by her horns, drawing the ox woman's face to meet hers. My cheeks flush as I watch the two women kiss intimately. Do they not see all the people in the hall? I've only witnessed kissing one when Alexius' wife was still alive. Even then, it was brief and emotionless. I never realized such passion could be put into an action like that.

"Ah, come on! We have to have our celebratory drinks before you two go MIA on me for the rest of the night." The Qunari man waves a meaty hand in their faces, giving an exaggerated sigh. With another robust laugh, the Inquisitor hesitantly breaks away from Sera. Now I know what that surgeon meant when she said the Inquisitor had a "bleeding heart" for Elves.  
In a flurry of disassembling, all three drop their weapons to the nearest table. Some nobles sniff their displeasure at such indecent behavior but manage to keep all negative comments to themselves. However, one man steps forward, his face entirely obstructed by his brass guise. 

"I applaud your aptitude with a blade, Herald. Quite..." His eyes flit to the dirty claw lying in front of him. There are a few pink nerves still hanging from it. "...awe-inspiring." 

"We'll have to take you with us next time then, Lord Harmond. This trophy is nothing compared to the live beast." The Inquisitor smirks down her crooked nose at him. He visibly swallows, slinking back into the mass of the gentle.

Without further discussion, the Inquisitor scoops up Sera in her muscular arms and turns to the other Qunari.

"Last one to the tavern has to sleep with the horses tonight!" Sera lets out a string of unintelligible jargon in her thick accent, laughing all the while. She wraps her arms securely around her lover's neck to lean further into the hall.

"That goes for you too, priggish!" Looking at Solas, who takes his time removing his bloodied gear, ignoring her. She merely rolls her eyes and falls comfortably back in the Inquisitor's arms. The race begins, and the two ox-men barrel out the door. 

It's considerably quieter now, hold for the faint tinkling of armor as Solas hands it off to a haggard, bearded man. With an air of vexation, he stalks over to me in three long strides. The firm set of his shoulders and the glint in his eyes makes sweat break out along my back. I match his steps my own -backing away. He's about a foot away when Cole shoots a hand in between us. 

"You're scaring her." Is all he says. 

"Why are you allowing her to wonder Skyhold? She served a powerful Magister. Who knows where her allegiances lie! You're lucky the Inquisitor didn't notice her." The force of his words makes him sound angrier. 

"The Inquisitor let me bring her to Skyhold. She can't go back to Alexius, Solas." Cole explains. I shoot him an ugly look before turning to face the mage. I bow my head in deep submission. If anyone wants me to leave more than I do, it's Solas. 

" Pardon me, Magister, I-," Solas welds his palm to my mouth, stopping the rest of my pleads.

"I am no Magister! Dirthara-ma, I am a mage. Hardly one of your Tevinter despots." His eyes glare down at me, burning a hole through my skin. My rash of apologies is muffled by the rough of his hand. The closeness of him -his hot breath fanning across my face- the look of contempt; Combined with the feeling of Cole's presence right up against my shoulder, has all my nerves frayed. I can't stop fidgeting under the pressure of these two men. 

Back up. Back up. BACK UP! I scream internally.

Braids of my magic snake just under my skin, straining to be released. I can't seem to keep as tight of a grip on it like I used to. Tendrils of it slide effortlessly through my mental grasp. Building rapidly until it physically hurts to try and tamp it down. In some corner of my mind, I can hear Cole speaking to me. His voice is too far away for me to understand him, though. I dully feel the beginnings of a nosebleed. My eyes roll loosely in their sockets with the final unleashing of my wild magic. It pushes away from me in a blast of frigid air, thrusting Solas a few feet from me. 

Withdrawing a heavy stone from my chest, I suddenly feel absolutely weightless. My chest yearns for air, as I'm unexpectedly breathless. I cough and sputter, sliding down the wall, trying to catch my breath. Before now, I had no idea how tight my skin felt under the pressure of constraining such a strength. How bound my chest was with this energy living inside me for so long. For a few moments, all I see is a pure expansiveness of white. As I blink and gather myself again, my sight slowly returns.

"It appears, I am not the only mage." Solas unsheaths his staff, the end of it coming alive in ablaze. 

"Stop! She is no threat to us!" Cole yells, utterly unbothered by my show of magic. He crouches down next to me, "I know you don't mean to hurt us. You hurt. You're scared of many things. Don't be scared of us. We're the good people. Solas just doesn't like surprises. Magical ones, at least."

"I didn't want this. I didn't want to be brought here. I don't want this curse I'm forced to hide. Please, Mag-...S-Solas, let me leave this place. I can find my own way back to my Master. Just...please." Tears well up in my eyes, unremitting to my wishes for them to leave. They flow down my face, mingling with the blood from my nose. I hate myself for crying. For using magic when I shouldn't have. I wish the world made sense again. I wish I was back in my room, doing nothing but waiting.

"Send her to the dungeon's chamber." Alexius' voice echoes, clear as day. My blood runs cold, and my eyes swivel crazily through the hall. Nobles still sit and chat, oblivious to what just happened; however, I can't find his face. Has he come to take me back? Did he see me use magic?

"A hall of smoke and cloaks. Men entangled with their armor. A face you are forced to sacrifice for makes your heart race around the room along with your eyes. He isn't here, Emeralds. There's no need to be afraid." Cole murmurs above me. His chin barely grazing the top of my head. It takes time, yet I'm able to calm myself enough to respond.

"Thank you," I breathe out, scarcely loud enough to be heard. Solas falters a moment, watching my shaking form with sad eyes. 

"I'm afraid we can't send you back. The Inquisitor has yet to capture Alexius. The trails run cold, and now that you're awake -you are our best lead at finding him." Solas sighs. Eyes lingering on my face, he opens his mouth once more. 

"Cole, bring her back to the infirmary. She'll have to stay there until I find a place for her to live. An untrained mage with wild magic needs constant supervision." Solas sets his shoulders back and walks to the door on my left. 

As he exits the room, I catch his eyes one last time. Maybe I am going mad. Alexius isn't here despite what I heard. Perhaps I also imagined Solas' eyes soften. Those grey slates becoming fleece.


	4. Chapter 4

It's odd watching the sun soar and fall each day. The mountains around Skyhold offer dusty yellows and warm oranges that can't manage to melt the snow tops. The days I've spent in the infirmary have been exciting, to say the least. The Inquisitor's Spymaster arrives each morning to interrogate me.

"What is your relationship with Alexius?"

"Do you know of any other castles Alexius may have fled to?"

"What was Alexius researching before he left?"

She never mentions my magic in her questions. I expected an escort down to the dungeons after my fight with Solas, but none ever came. Has he forgotten about me? Not likely. Maybe he doesn't find my ability a significant enough threat to notify the Inquisitor?

The young soldier staying in the infirmary left the first day I woke up. Now it has just been the surgeon and me. Most days, a few soldiers will wander in and out for non-emergencies. Other days, I'm forced to give up my cot. Tonight, the room feels too open.

I find myself calling out to Cole every night once the surgeon has left. He'll appear noiselessly at the end of my cot. 

I've been kept in isolation most of my life. The thought of a simple plea being enough to summon another person will take getting used to. I haven't pressured him into telling me about his mage-like abilities despite him claiming to not be a mage. However, it's not because I don't believe he'll give me the truth. I'm worried that I won't like the answer. So I let him pop in and out of existence. Maybe I'll have the courage to ask him to clarify one day. 

But as we sneak off for the night, I can't bring myself to think of anything other than his peaceful aura. My racing thoughts of Master quiet with the caress of his hand, as he pulls me to yet another secret alcove. I'm technically not allowed to leave the infirmary without a guard escort. They don't trust me, yet they keep me from the prison cells. I don't understand it, but I'm not going to argue against it. I've grown to love my nightly outings with Cole. 

We'll sneak into the kitchens and swipe a few apples and, my favorite, the discarded cookies from that morning. I don't mind stealing from the Inquisitor. When I get back to Master Alexius, I'll tell him everything I can about Skyhold in the hope of avoiding punishment. Cole is easy to talk to. He states things simply, if not too simple. I don't worry about being deceived by him, though I know I should.

I'm surprised at how much I've come to depend on Cole. Everything about him is quiet. I don't flinch when he speaks like I do with everyone else. I don't mind our strange adventures in the dead of night. All the new noise and sensations keep me from sleeping more than a few hours at a time anyway. In the day, I watch the multitude of soldiers practice in the yards. Elfs, humans, and Dwarfs alike talk freely with one another, smiling, laughing. In the late evenings, they chaotically amble from the building I've since learned is the tavern. Each yelling something jovially unintelligible. Some are carrying others on their shoulders. All of them scare me—even the Elves. I occasionally catch glimpses of the Elven woman from the main hall, Sera, from her perch atop the tavern. Once I thought we made eye contact. I ducked down as quickly as I could, unsure if she actually saw me or not. I waited a few heartbeats, but she wasn't anywhere in sight when I looked over again. Cole asked a few times if I wanted to go to the tavern. He must have caught me staring at it. I said I didn't want to. The thought of being packed in a room of strange people, even with Cole's hiding ability, makes my scalp itch. 

Tonight, though, the winds are quiet enough for beautiful music to emanate from the open door. He's taken me to the top of the watchtower next to the infirmary. Our legs swing off the side of the stonework idly. The Inquisitor has gone on another mission. Taking Sera, the other Qunari, and Vivienne instead of Solas this time, Cole tells me. He answers everything I ask him, though it's sometimes hard to piece the cryptic messages into anything comprehensive. 

I stare at him from the corner of my eye. He watches the guards from under the brim of his hat as they make their rounds along the walls. 

"Cole,..." I quietly call. He turns his head, the tiny flip of blond hair at the nape of his neck pops out of his collar. He blinks in silent question. His eyes falling to my lips for a quick second. "...can we visit the Nugs again?" 

When Cole asked if he could show me his friends in the library, I was expecting scholars. Though, I should stop trying to assume anything about him. The first time he brought me to the library in the basement of Skyhold, I froze in the doorway. 

"They're Nugs," He explained. Those little hairless rodents reminded me of the rats from Alexius' castle. Except these were friendlier. They didn't bite at my skin when they were hungry. Cole seems to take good care of them; their fat bellies jiggled as they ran up to greet him. He tells me they like being underground, so he created a little hay nest by pillaging through the horse pens. 

The library is tiny, only enough room for a hallway lined with bookshelves and a single desk at the end. Cole tells me that it barely gets any use. Why the Inquisitor lets animals rip up the books and live here, I don't know. If Master Alexius were here, he'd set the hunting dogs loose on them.  
"They were cold outside," Cole told me. "And we had room in here."

It is warm in there. The library sits directly under the massive oven in the kitchens, warding away any cold drafts. The room is small enough to not feel exposed like I do in the infirmary, either. The Nugs keep to themselves for the most part, but periodically, the smallest of the brood will wander out to us. That's where I want to be tonight. Tucked into the warmth of Skyhold, Cole mutelessly watching my back. 

"Of course, Emeralds." A slow smile spreads across his face. It sits awkwardly as if he's not sure he's emoting correctly or not. His lack of etiquette makes me smile in turn. I'm sure it looks just as weird on my face. A small titter of laughter falls from my mouth before I can stop it. It's brassy and hits my throat in odd spots. The fringe of Cole's hat falls in front of him but not before I see his smile grow ever so slightly. I swear I hear him laugh too. Maybe it was just a breathy sigh?

I also let the nickname go without argument. I like that he calls me something other than "knife-ear" or "rattus." 

I swing my legs around to leap down from the edge of the wall. The moon is bright enough tonight. I don't need to hold on to Cole, who doesn't seem to need any light at night, no matter the phase of the moon. 

A sensation I'm not entirely familiar with bubbles up from my chest just then. It constricts around my heart, but not uncomfortably. My mouth is teased into a broader smile- giggles rising like bubbles from my throat in some sort of mania. A sense of fearlessness takes a hold on me. I spin to face Cole, who is still climbing down from the edge. He's already staring at me. As if he could feel the sudden shift in me. 

"I'll race you." I challenge in a low voice, leaning towards him like I'm speaking absolute blasphemy. His eyebrows shoot upward; however, I'm already sailing towards the staircase. I can't run for very long, though. My breath starts to come in ragged draws. Piercing pain in my side has my stumbling to a near stop. I reach the bottom of the stairs and force myself to get to the arch under the main hall entrance. 

"Are you sure you want to race?" Cole asks innocently. 

"Ho-," How did he get to me so quickly? Am I that pathetic? I didn't hear him chase after me at all. 

"Here." He simply says. He takes off his hat, places it on my head, turns his back to me, and then crouches down. 

"What do you mean?" Confused by what he wants me to do. Crouch down with him? His hat falls in front of my eyes.

"I can carry you on my back."

"Then, we wouldn't be racing."

"Horses race with someone on their back."

"You aren't a horse."

"No. That would be a 'Colt.'"

When he says nothing else, I hesitantly wrap my arms around his neck. He stands slowly to allow me to wind my legs through his arms and over his hips. He bounces me up gently once to fix his grip on my legs. My white tunic rides high up on my thighs. Cole's hands, calloused and firm, grip my flesh without a noticeable reaction. I tell myself I imagined his fingers squeeze softly.

I'm overly aware of how tight my body is to his—the places where my thighs grip his waist tingle feverously. My heart rate won't calm down despite the fact I'm not running anymore. It takes a conscious effort to breathe evenly. I can't recall the walk down to the library. Apart from the sensation of his back against my chest, that is. 

Sooner then I'd think we arrive at the single door to the library. Happy little chirps welcome us, as I slide off Cole's back. His hands lingering on my skin longer than necessary to make sure I don't fall. 

Stacks of thick books stand at half my height. Some of the pages are chewed on slightly but are still legible. If Master Alexius were here, he'd burst a blood vessel. There are few things precious to him: his son is first and foremost, a close second would be his love for knowledge. I pick up the nearest book in reach. Ornate gold lettering takes over most of the cover, visible only from the single flame Cole lights at the desk. I trace one of the characters with my finger. 

"Do you read much, Cole?" I ask, hoping I'm not too transparent. 

"No. I can't focus on what the pages say. The author's feelings are too loud." Does reading allow you to hear the author's feelings? My brows furrow in confusion. That doesn't seem right, but I don't question it. How pathetic would I look if he found out I couldn't read or write? I can barely run apparently.

"Yeah. I don't read either." I quickly agree, placing the book back on the stack. The feeling of his eyes on me makes my fingers fidget with each other. Luckily, my nervousness is interrupted by the sound of languid steps outside. My relief is quickly drowned when whoever is walking by stops at the door. The soft torchlight from the hall cuts sharply through the room. My heart jumps at the silhouette of a man that walks into the doorway. I can't make out his features aside from a staff slung across their back. 

Magister.

"Master." I manage to breathe past the fist in my throat. How could I forget my mission to escape Skyhold? What am I doing? Racing with Cole and thoughts of learning to read? 

"Traipsing around with Thedas deplorables? I wouldn't expect any less from a cheap rattus slave." He steps forward. The slap of his boots weakens my knees. A hand reaches for me, milky skin tanned by the flame. 

"I can't wait to dig into that head of yours once we get back to Minrathos- all those Inquisition secrets just waiting to be ripped out." I feel all sensation dissolve away as my sight narrows to a pinpoint. I can still hear someone speaking, although whatever Master Alexius is saying becomes completely muffled. My body falls like it's made of lead, but I swear I'm weightless. The stone floor digs into the bones of my knees and elbows. Stone floors start to blend together. Have I been dreaming this whole time? The darkness, the stone- am I back in my room in Alexius' castle? 

A persistent humming attempts to break through the fog of confusion. Every time I blink, I'm somewhere new. I watch as the scratches that I marred into my room's walls, phase in and out. They are replaced with the sight of hairless creatures that huddle against each other in a nest- I know what those are, right? Another blink turns them into rats. They jump at me, biting and clawing at my face. 

Someone lets out a deafening scream. My body responds with an unexpected lurch, my throat burning. Hot tears drip into my mouth, which I realize hangs open loosely in my semi-conscious state. 

"Master! Master, please help me! Help me!" My voice serrates my lungs further with the force I put behind my begging. It doesn't sound like me.

"She needs rest, Cole. Who knows what Tevinter horrors she's been through." Hands extend from the void I find myself in. They fasten to the sides of my head, their thumbs gingerly closing my eyes. Blue light overtakes my vision. My panic and fear are detached from me until all other feeling is brought back. The hands retract warily.

My eyelids peel open slowly. A familiar expansive, blue sky embraces my shaking consciousness. My lips roll, trying to form words, but my mind is wiped of anything cognitive. 

"You are safe here, Lethallan. I can ward away any more intrusive thoughts from here." Solas' stoic baritone draws my attention. Movement at the corners of my eyes startles me. Yellow flower buds bend down to touch my face. I know where I am even before I sit up. 

The wildflower field goes on forever in every direction, just how I remember it. The memory is primitive and lacks definite detail, but it is my only one I have as a free Elf. If I looked too closely at the flower beds, their lines start to blur. The older I get, the harder it is to keep the smaller specifics. There was a point when I could remember being able to see the Dalish camp from my spot. But time has degraded the image so much, it has disappeared completely.

"Pardon the intrusion into your mind. You were unreachable in the physical world. I thought I'd attempt to speak to you here." Solas stands above me, looking to the horizon. 

"So, I really am dreaming?"

"No. You are at Skyhold. I forced you into a dream state. I thought a place you recognized would be best. This was the only...decent memory I could find."

"I've never been this awake in my dreams before. I'm glad it's this one." My knees crack as I stand. Solas nods in agreement.

"You're a gifted mage, if simply untrained. The focus it takes to be aware within a dream is impressive. Given your current state back at Skyhold, I expected more of a mental battle." He turns to face me. "You come from a heinous life of slavery, though I sense a misplaced loyalty for Alexius. Pardon if I don't trust you enough to teach you about your mage abilities. Wild magic is dangerous. An Apostate with motive and means is fatal." His eyes grow soft when I meet them.

"Then let me leave." His frown deepens. "Master Alexius will try to find me. Before I was taken to Skyhold, he was testing new magic. The tests were...uncomfortable," Solas' jaw clenches. "I don't think his goal was to understand how Elves were effected by it necessarily. They only tested it against me once." 

My finger traces the lines of scar tissue that track across my chest. Old and new skin ruptures over each other in malignant shapes from countless experiments. I was the lone survivor of his research. His motivation for finding me won't be from some new found love. I alone hold thousands of secrets he'd rather bury with me. And I fell right into the hands of the enemy. Years of punishment hammered into my body stop me from revealing more. My execution is inevitable when he finds me. I just hope Master makes it quick.

"To what goal were these experiments given?" Solas asks. Walking forward, I ignore him. The heat of his hand touches the crook of my elbow. His hold is loose and easy to break free from, though.   
Beaded heads of my unknown flowers hit the palms of my outstretched hands. I wonder if I walked far enough, my caravan would eventually show up?   
Maybe it's right over the bend of the horizon.


	5. Chapter 5

"-don't care where she goes afterward. I want a constant watch over her until Alexius is found." A booming voice echoes against rigid walls, coming closer. My ears ring in pain. I try to bring my hands up to silence to noise, only for my wrists to meet resistance. 

My eyes snap open. The last thing I remember was walking in the wildflower fields in my dream. Solas had disappeared when I glanced back. I don't know how long I stayed in that realm. Now I have no idea where I am. It takes a few seconds to discern the cobbled walls around me. A chill rends through me, enough for me to realize I'm not in the library anymore. This place reminds me of my room back in Minrathos. Except it's a lot damper here. 

My body slumps against the wall my arms are pinned to. The shackles are attached to a deep but narrow well in the wall that stretches halfway to the ceiling. They don't budge from my weak attempts to free myself.

"If she refuses to talk, I trust you have ways to persuade her." A set of heavy feet continues to walk forward. I swear the voice sounds like the Inquisitor, though much harsher than I remember it being. 

"I still suggest we summon my advised consultant. This situation is a...delicate one." The soft lilting tone of Leliana filters through the door in front of me. A weighty sigh follows before the Inquisitor speaks again. 

"And your guidance is always appreciated, Leliana." Another pause. "Fine. I will see if Josephine can arrange for an invitation. Until then, see what you can do." 

"Of course, Inquisitor." Now her voice is right outside the room I sit in. The door unlocks, and in comes the Spymaster. Two soldiers follow close behind—an insignia of a sword casting flames around it adorns their steel breastplates. The tip of the blade points up toward their metal-clad faces. Leliana waste no time in addressing me. 

"You are quite the lockbox, aren't you? Not a single whiff of Alexius' secrets this whole week. Then five minutes with Solas, and you crack." I keep my head down, staying as still as possible. I know this routine- how it begins, how it ends. Punishment is punishment, in Minrathos or Thedas. Leliana motions towards the two guards. 

"You'll have to excuse the Inquisitor's choice of protection. We were notified about your magic and thought Templars necessary."  
I've heard passing whispers about Templars in Minrathos. Never enough to understand what they do, though. They approach me wordlessly, pushing my shackles upward, forcing me to stand. The slots I noticed before allowing the cuffs to be maneuvered up or down the wall. It's a new contraption to me. Usually, Master Alexius would simply lay me out on a table. Or if he just wanted to hurt me, my arms would be chained to the metal beams of the dungeon ceiling. 

"Your loyalty to Alexius is admirable. I would be remiss if I didn't offer you a place in one of my ranks when all of this is over. Though you do lack a certain aspect of... aggression. Odd." I have to blink a few times before I can fully process what she's offered. My eyes peek up at her through my lashes.

"Does that interest you? Protection from Tevinter Magisters? You must earn it first. Show us that you aren't a Tevinter spy." She pauses, scrutinizing me with a pinched expression. "Are you ready to start talking?" 

"I...won't," I swallow. Turn against Alexius? Everything in my body rejects defying him, even now.

"Alexius isn't your Master anymore. Slavery is illegal in Thedas." She attempts to reassure me. 

"You abducted me from Tevinter." I rebuke.

"And before that, you were stolen from your clan, who traveled through Thedas." Leliana is quick to counter. She waits for me to argue, but when I remain silent, she continues.

"My sources have found little about you. What was uncovered may interest you." I shake my head. Nothing she knows is worth Master's wrath. She narrows her eyes slightly.

"Do you remember anything of your Dalish clan?" Her question startles me. The Templars subtly brace beside me, their backs straightening. She waits for me to reply.

"I don't care for my old clan." I manage passed my clenched teeth. I screw my eyes shut, "You don't understand. Master Alexius'-." 

"-has bigger issues to focus on at the moment than finding a slave." She finishes for me. She takes a moment to study my face, half-hidden behind my choppy fringe. "Do you feel no anger towards him? No hatred for the way he has treated you all those years?" 

"Hate?" Anger, maybe. But was that anger at Master Alexius or myself? There were plenty of times I hated myself to the point where I would slam my head on the stone. Some days my body was too weak to stand when they brought me out to the Rift. The research was halted because of me, and Master Alexius became frustrated with me. 

I shake my head. A Spymaster will say anything to get what she wants. She'll say anything to try and appeal to me; try to get me to turn on my Master. But it was Solas who told the Inquisitor of my magic. Cole, who stole me away from my Master. Leliana, who wants me to betray him. Angry? Yes. I am.

"I will not forsake my Master for some Thedas..." I trail off, trying to think of a slur aside from 'rattus,' "...dull-ear." She snarls at that, though more from frustration then offense.

"I'm not against torture when the greater good of Thedas is in the balance." She reminds me coolly. Her eyes never waver from mine. It's me who breaks first and looks away. I think she knows as I do, how much I can withstand. Albeit, I've never been tortured for withholding anything previously. Years and years of building tolerance for pain all unknowingly led to this moment. I never thought my endurance would come in handy this exact way, but I don't curse it now. Master Alexius blessed me, whether he meant to or not. 

Leliana must see the defiance in my eyes. She reels her hand back and cracks it across my face. It isn't the hardest I've been hit, but it still stings. I learned long ago it hurts less to yield to the force of blows instead of bracing against them. The Zealots also tended to leave sooner when I stopped trying to shield myself. Hopefully, the countrymen here are the same. 

She lets out an indignant huff but doesn't attack me further. Instead, she surprises me by leaving. One Templar follows her out, but I can hear him loitering just beyond my sight. The other stays in the room with me. He goes to stand guard at the door. 

Was that it? The Inquisition's Spymaster leaves after one slap? That's...pathetic. 

A sense of pride swells inside me at my determination against these "dull-ears." 

"You did very well, Rabbit." Master Alexius' knotted fingers clamp down on my chin and force me to look up at him. His touch doesn't burn me like Cole's does. Instead, it sends shocks of cold down my body, making my heart skitter like a caged animal. 

"Do you love your Master?" He asks, a violent glint in his shadowed eyes. His brassy voice makes my ears twitch. 

"Of course, Master." I ratify with a stiff bob of my head. 

"Quiet, Apostate." The Templar growls. Alexius chuckles darkly.

"Impressive: keeping that a secret for so long." I open my mouth, a slew of apologies at the tip of my tongue when he squeezes my jaw shut. "I could piss on your excuses, rattus!" His fingernails dig into my skin. A second later, his grip relaxes, and his neutral tone resumes.

"But your abilities, as wild as they might be, could help us. I need you to escape Skyhold on your own. Its wards are too powerful for my forces to penetrate them. Once you leave its walls, I want you to call out for me. I'll hear you, however far you are." His smile is all teeth as he stares down at me. He doesn't wait for me to agree. In one blink, he's gone again. I begin to recline back against the wall when hot breath licks at my ear.

"And remember, little Rabbit, I'm always listening."


	6. Chapter 6

Master Alexius would occasionally reappear after that first day in this cell. Sometimes he would say things, usually threats to keep me quiet. Other times, he'd stand behind Leliana as she sits down for her daily interrogation. No one mentions him. It's rather obvious no one else can see or hear him. His presence and threat of always listening have been successful at keeping my mouth shut so far. 

I tend to hope for a visit from someone else. Cole will pop in just like he did when I was sleeping in the infirmary. His ability to hide in plain sight still confuses me. I'm able to see him, but the guards don't react. I can't speak to him or else he'd get caught. I don't mind the silence, however. His presence is a welcomed one.

Leliana has visited me five times. She never laid another hand on me since that first day. A very passive way to make someone talk, I admit, but I won't advocate for my own torture. Her questions change each day. Sometimes she'll ask about Master, to which he'd clench his jaw behind her in an unspoken omen of pain. Then a few nonconsecutive days, she's inquired about my memories of my clan. I told her what I tell anyone else who asks: I have no idea. I don't care. Can I leave now? 

Of course, she'd ignore that last part, focusing more on my apathy. 

"Most Dalish slaves wish to go back if given a chance. In your case, I expected some amount of interest, in the least."

"Even if I did go back, I know little of the culture. The people would be strangers. I'm better off going back to my room in Minrathos." I was taken before I could learn much from my Keeper. Much too young to be considered to receive my Vallaslin. I will admit, there is a little voice in the back of my head. It asks silly questions like what would have happened if I could have stayed with my clan. But knowing so little about my people makes it impossible to imagine my life as anything else. SO after each day, Leliana retreats in defeat until tomorrow. 

I have no perception of time anymore. I've come to avoid counting hours. The act is pointless, and unconsciously leads to anticipation. There is nothing to wait up for, in this place, nor in my room. Though as I listen to the Templars shuffle around and watch a crack in the ceiling hesitantly drip, I can't help but notice the lapse in Leliana's schedule. The feeling of hours passing is nothing new, but I'd gotten used to the Spymaster's visits. 

I haven't tried reaching out to the Templars. I can't bring myself to speak to the armored soldiers, whether it's from fear or because I can feel the burning incense of his eyes on me. The one who remains in the room with me stands sentinel. Occasionally, he'll raise his hand as if setting a ward. Each time he does this, a deep masculine grunt emits from his helmet. He probably doesn't mean to make the noise but purposeful or not, I recoil further into the wall. When this happens, Master Alexius will appear. Sometimes immediately, other times, a few minutes will pass before he materializes. He rarely says anything in these cases, mostly staring down at me. My arms remain in their constrains because I haven't given them anything aside from what I let slip to Solas. 

Cole has kept away today as well. A pit forms in my stomach at the thought that he might think I've betrayed him. Though it is a silly thought. I've only loyalty to my Master. Yet somewhere among the time getting to know him, he has become almost like Master Alexius. Warmer, definitely. Cole's touch is always fleeting along my skin. I can vividly recall his palms on my thighs, the odd coolness of his body like a minty salve against my chest as I held on to him. Before, touches where always from slaps and punches, grabs, and throws. I guess I'd rather not be touched then go back to that. I suppose this is better.

I must have fallen asleep because the shriek of the cell's rusted hinges startles me awake. I look up to find Leliana, her usual drab scowl about her face. She steps into the room, revealing a man behind her. She goes to stand in the corner, obviously wanting to give the man the spotlight instead.

His build is lean, his hips tampering sharply under his loose cotton shirt. Ropes of muscle bunching along his neck as he clinches his jaw. His eyes appear hollow and dark, even in the minimal light of the cell. What really draws my attention are the pale marks that crescendo symmetrically accenting his chin and neckline. 

Is this what I would have looked like with my Vallanslin? The lines disappear from view, but similar threads wind around his forearms. Could I be mistaken about the rituals? Does the writing cover our entire bodies? His ears jut sharply away from his face in a familiar way, and despite my better judgment, I find myself relaxing. Slightly.

No one speaks for a good long while. Leliana keeps glancing at the newcomer expectantly. He just stares. His shoulders are shot back offensively, and he appears lost in thought. A cold sweat breaks out along my back, and my fingers fidget compulsively in their confinements.

Leliana is the first to break the silence by clearing her throat. The man blinks as if waking up, glances at Leliana before returning to me. I watch his mossy eyes sharpen.

"Ah, well. The Inquisitor made this situation sound a bit direr. She doesn't look to be any sort of threat, chained up with Templars and all. This is what you've called me for?" His voice stays a neutral rumble in his throat. When Leliana doesn't respond, he leans from one foot to the other, visibly uncomfortably. 

"I hear you've just escaped from one of those Magister bastards. You've important information that you refuse to tell the Inquisition, correct?" A stray lock of white hair falls in between his eyes with the incline of his head. "When I first freed myself, it was a bit of shock, I'll admit. Though anger was quick to replace it. I wanted to kill my Master more than anything. You'd be helping them catch him."

"I am not angry," I repeat. As if on queue, the wrathful Master materializes next to Leliana. I spare his entrance only a glance, but Fenris catches it. I know what he sees when he watches me. My blood runs cold when in the presence of my Master. It locks up, even if only barely. For I can't hate Master Alexius, fear, however, is impossible to contain. 

"Ah. It seems I have a luxury you don't. While my former Master lies wasting to the elements, yours wonders freely." He considers this for a second, "To live in this fear is absolutely useless. Even I had the wherewithal to try and hunt mine down. Do you not wish to be free?"

I know he wants me to say I'd fight for this "freedom," but I wasn't the one to ask for it in the first place. The question hangs in the air like fog. I would turn to Leliana for help, but I don't want to accidentally make eye contact with Master Alexius. 

"I didn't free myself." More to remind Master than anything else. "You...freed...yourself? Your Master let you?"

"Former Master. And it was hard-fought. I surely didn't stop to ask if it was 'ok.' Luckily, my time spent in the Imperium gave me the tools I needed to escape." The pale marks on his skin flex at his mention of the Tevinter nation. The thought of leaving Master Alexius of my own volition is almost impossible to comprehend. I wouldn't say I never thought about life before my servitude, my daydreams of the wildflower field can attest to that. But I always saw those as mere fantasies to pass the time in my room. Or take my mind off the pain during experiments.

"You hurt your M-former Master?" If I thought leaving my Master was impossible, this was unfathomable. Even during the earliest days during my time in Minrathos, that notion never came to me.

"That's right. Grabbed him by his throat and ripped it from his body." He snarls savagely, teeth bared. His already deep voice becomes a rolling thunder that I feel in my own chest. Master Alexius steps away from the corner, his crimson robes dragging across the moldy floor. I can just catch the sliver of his mouth from inside his hood. His lips curl back like an enraged dog.

"Rattuses always learn their place eventually. If I were your Master, I'd buy you just to hang you." Alexius seethes, his teeth snapping inches away from Fenris' face. The other man makes no acknowledgment towards my Master. With lighting speed Alexius collars Fenris' throat with a tight grip, slamming him to the ground. Magic flies in primary colors as Alexius cast twin flames from his palm against Fenris' tanned skin. His back arches off the floor, howling in pain. I can only watch in horror, my hands struggling to free themselves. The rest of the room falls away until its just the three of us. 

Alexius stands above Fenris', whose charred body wriggles under the boot pressing heavily onto his chest. He tries to speak, but a spell I'm very familiar with emits from the Magister. Fenris' arms fall as forced paralysis overtakes him. I shut my eyes to the sounds of bubbling skin, bones snapping like kindling, and the suddenly intrusive silence from the Elf. 

"Stop!" I scream, unable to take this anymore. I whip my head against the stone wall behind me. A second time and blood rushes to the curve of my skull. The third time has skin splitting, but I can't hear Master Alexius anymore. I try for the fourth time; however, the soft flesh of a hand blocks the contact. The sight of golden-green eyes overwhelms me as I come back to the cell in Skyhold. They're narrowed as they watch me in grim understanding. Leliana stands next to him, an unreadable expression on her face.

"It's just us here. It's ok." Someone tries to soothe me. Hot blood trickles down the collar of my tunic, running down the collum of my spine. "You are in Skyhold. There are no Magisters here." I realize it's Fenris speaking. His hands quickly retract once he sees that I've ultimately come back. The smell of burning flesh is no longer in the air, and Master Alexius is nowhere to be found. Fenris kneels in front of me, closer than before, but completely unharmed. 

"Can you tell me what just happened...?... Actually, I don't think anyone ever told me your name." He asks, giving a dismissive motion towards Leliana. She crosses her arms.

"Name...?" My voice ragged from my sudden screaming. 

"Yes, mage. Or do you only respond to Elven slurs?" He questions drily. The leather of his pants creaking as he shifts his weight on his heels.

My temper flares. I want to snap at him, tell him that Cole calls me 'Emeralds,' not rabbit, or knife-ear. Although I stop myself. I'd like the nickname to remain a secret for a little while longer. Despite my annoyance at Cole for creating it, telling others about will inevitably twist what it has come to mean for me. 

"I'm not referred to often." Is my only answer. 

"That simply won't do, will it? My name was given to me by Danarius. You at least have this to choose for yourself." Fenris hesitates a moment, assessing my sitting form, then speaks to Leliana without turning away.

"Keeping an ex-slave in such a place does no good in showing her we are any better. I'm sure those Magisters gave you more than enough time in dank underground holes."

"Are you saying we let her walk free? She is here for the safety of Skyhold, Fenris." Leliana speaks up.

"No, no, Leliana, of course. A wild hedge mage freely wondering Skyhold would make the Inquisition look a bit inexperienced, wouldn't it? My mistake." Fenris backs up towards the cell door, still refusing to look at the Spymaster, who makes a sound of annoyance. 

"If you insist on taking her out, then I suggest the Underforge. The wards there are the tighest against any expelling magic. I'll alert Dagna before we leave." She says, voice dripping with indignation.

"I won't be opposed to keeping the Templars with us. Though, I assume the whole of Skyhold could take on one untrained apostate if it came to that." He exits the cell without seeing if anyone follows. 

Skyhold bustles with activity when I'm brought up. The sun is directly overhead and glares down very welcome heat. I'm kept in cuffs, but they rest in front of me this time. Leliana and the two Templars hover closely around, yet they keep their hands to themselves. I look for Cole, his ashy blond head tends to stick out against the brown and black hair colors. Ironic considering most people tend to overlook him.

Fenris is already in the Underforge, facing the water below him. His hands drum restlessly on top of the stone railing. We reach him wordlessly. His gaze is far away, but I can tell he hears us approaching.

"Now isn't this a bit more relaxing." I don't respond. Skyhold is loud during the day. I'd rather be out of sight in the dark. But who cares what I want?

The forge is much like the prison I was just in. Though one side stands open to face a waterfall. He turns to face me, his face drawn into a solemn mask. "A bit more of a breeze, at least."

He surveys me, my dirtied white tunic and skeletal figure. The fiery red   
hair resides in its usual greasy state, its uneven strands hanging in my eyes. 

"Wouldn't you agree, She-who-has-no-name?" 

"Of course." The agreement comes easily to my lips, though I did have to bite my tongue to stop the "Master" that was to follow. If I were speaking to anyone else, it would have leapt from me unconsciously. But Fenris' Elf-ish appearance is a constant indication of his status. An Elf is a slave. I don't know if I believe that he's free. The concept is still uncharted to me.

Fenris bares his teeth in uncontainable disgust. Though, for the first time in my memory, I don't think it's directed at me.

"You must continue from this point on with a name. You deserve that decency." He surveys me through the part of his hair. I nod again, not knowing what to say. 

"I don't suppose you have a name you'd liked to be called?"

"Master Alexius would sometimes call me Subject One." I offer weakly. 

"We're not calling you that."

"Cole calls her 'Emeralds.' There was no record of this name I've found that could be her, though. I believe she responds to it." Leliana breaks in, setting my teeth on edge. I neither confirm nor deny her statement. Fenris ponders this while scrutinizing me intently.

"As much as I enjoy your input, Leliana, I think it would be best if I spoke to our mage alone." 

"Alone? Could you possibly be suicidal? We still do not know what she is capable of. We took a risk bringing her outside. Now you intend to have an audience with her...alone?"

"Must I be the one to inform the Inquisition's Spymaster of my talents? A simple mage set upon me is more an insult than anything else." His tone is casual as he gives a harsh smirk. They catch each other eyes. A fierce battle of wits keeps them silent for a minute until Leliana finally relents.

"Fine. But, remember, Templars will swarm this forge before anything nefarious can be conceived." She points the warning at me. I duck my head down in a show of passiveness. She seems to accept that well enough, and with another huff of aggravation, she strides out the door. The Templars follow her but don't exit. Instead, they stand on either side of it. 

"Tell me. In that cell, what did you see?" He whispers, a stark contrast to the tone he used with Leliana. 

"I thought we were choosing a name?" I deflect. It's bold of me, trying to control a conversation like I am. Again, I think my confidence comes from him being an Elf. While Solas is also an Elf, his mage status intimidates me. 

"The fear won't always control you like this. Killing the Magister who did this to you will help." He plies gently, completely ignoring my attempt to avoid this conversation. 

"None of you understand that you are safer with me returned." I cryptically hint. Fenris curiously tilts his head.

"Do tell, little mage. I assure you Alexius does not know the location of Skyhold. Even if he did, I'm told an attack would be near impossible. Granted, that could just be Curly talking out of his ass again." He raises an eyebrow.

"I've lived in the Master's castle since I was five. Do you think I'd be ignorant of the way he operates?" It's gotten harder to swallow under his skeptical attention. My skin chafes painfully from the cuffs as I twist them compulsively in my nervousness. 

As if summoned by his name, I feel Alexius' heavy presence. It feels like I'm right back in the observation room, waiting out whatever side effects were set upon my body. I glance around the room, sneaking peaks ever now and then, but I can't find him.

"Ah. I was not aware of the full story. I hadn't realized you were so young when you were taken. So you must not remember much from before, correct?" Fenris brings me back. 

"Nothing," I respond, sounding far away. 

"Well, this may be beyond anything I can do." He says, more to himself—those cat-like viridian eyes devour me in emotion. I've seen those feelings displayed often lately: a mix of pity and fury. Maybe a bit of excitement also laces through Fenris. 

To me, he says, "I promise you that your life has just begun. I'm truly sorry for those years imprisoned in a place like that." He walks up to me, and after a moment of hesitation, he lays a hand on mine. The pads of his fingers heat the spots of my wrist they linger on—an aura of spice wafts over me at his advance. He smells sharp and tangy, like an orange. 

"With this freedom, where would I go if not back to my room?" I wonder. I think back to Leliana's offer to have me serve under her as a spy. I'm sure she hadn't really meant that. She was seeking my trust so I'd give up information. Alexius' gaze burns deeper.

"What of your family? It will be much easier to find them again without having to evade Alexius along the way, believe me."

"I wouldn't even know where to find my clan. Even if I did, what would I do then? As old as I am now, they would reject an Elf who does know of the Dalish ways." I want to remove my hands from his grasp.

"Dalish?" He furrows his brows, looking down at me harder. Realization dawns of him, his brow twitching slightly. "You were too young to receive your Vallanslin before you were taken." 

I nod. 

"When did you get your tattoos? I had no idea they would be that expansive." I trace the white lines with my eyes slowly up his arms. He pulls his hands back like I've burned him.

"These-," He abruptly yells, causing me to recoil. I trip on my bare feet, falling on my tail bone. "-Are physical remnants of Danaruis's experimentation on me! Magister used my body for their own selfish goals. Lyruim was injected into me!" His eyes are wild, staring down at me.

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry." I impulsively repeat over and over.

The clashing of armor rings from the entrance of the forge. The Templars take a few steps before Fenris holds up a hand to stop them. He walks back over to the railing, placing both hands on the stone in deep thought. I'm in awe of the power he possesses—both with the Spymaster and these guards. An Elf, who was under a Magister Master and experimented on -this is him now? Could I be like him in the future? He doesn't appear to be much older than me.

It takes me more time then I'm willing to admit trying to get myself to speak again. Eventually, I'm able. Fenris still watches the torrent of water cascade over the cliff when I reach out, painfully aware of Alexius listening.

"I- I was experimented on...too." I force out. It's really nothing they didn't know before. I had told Solas about my serves to Master Alexius in my dream. 

However, this piques Fenris' interest nonetheless. He looks back at me, still on the floor, waiting for me to continue. Yet, when I open my mouth, my breath is ripped from my chest. The sensation of leather straps whips against my chest. I can only manage a strangled gasp as I clutch my breast. 

"You dare speak of me?" The Master's voice reverberates, but he and his lashes remain invisible. I sit on my knees, face pinched in pain, head down. Another blow rakes from my collar bone to navel in a white-hot arch. I vaguely notice Fenris sidle up to me, hovering. His scent is a welcome distraction.

"Fight it. Whatever you're seeing or hearing, it's not real. Look at me. Look at me!" He hooks my chin with a hand. His eyes jump between mine feverously. 

"He's listening." I wrangle the words from my throat, throwing them at his feet. My tunic remains a dirty white, but the feeling of blood gushing is undeniable. I pull at the clothing until I can see my chest. No new wounds blemish the bumpy tissue.

"That's not possible," Fenris argues, either referring to Alexius or my non-existent wounds. It's too taxing to convince him both are happening. My eyes roll back as the particular sensation of a blade zippers through the skin of my back. Thankfully, unconsciousness is easy to succumb to. 

"The wards are strong enough to prevent any outside magic from listening, let alone attack one of us." The hum of a voice reaches me from the void I swim lazily in. 

"I thought as much. She had a similar reaction in the cells. I suspect memories from Minrathos remain with her. For the first few years of my escape, I was plagued with nightmares. Guess I'm lucky they didn't follow me into the waking world, aside for being hunted down and all." The neutral tone of Fenris rises from my left. He sounds close. "I just had to check with you, Solas. I don't often let myself rely on mages. They tend to cause more trouble then prevent it." 

Wet warmth envelopes my forehead pleasantly. Droplets of what I assume to be water drip lazily down the sides of my face, cooling as they go. Either the sun has set, or I'm back in the cells of Skyhold. The cold tries to pervade the cluster of blankets that wraps around me. As far as I can tell, I'm not being restrained, and the ground beneath my back is soft like bedding.

"Yes. When I surprised her in the library, she went into a state of panic. Cole and I couldn't reach her in the physical realm. I was forced to hold her consciousness in a dream to keep her fear at bay." Solas's voice moves about the room, finally settling with the sound of a chair scraping the floor. A grunt of disdain comes from Fenris.

"Why don't you keep that magic to yourself next time, apostate. The girl's been violated enough without another mage taking up space in her head." He mutters.

"I'm sorry?" Solas snaps back. "Would you have rather I left her to those hallucinations?"

"I'm saying, I was perfectly capable of bringing her back to reality without the crutch of magic." Fenris' bristles.

"How do you truly know unless you're in her head to see?" 

"Just stay away. That goes for you too, creep. It'll be a hard enough job to get her to trust anyone with others interfering." The bed shakes as if Fenris has shot to his feet. 

"You realize, she is a mage herself? Your prejudice will only cause her to withdraw further, Fenris." Solas hisses the name out like a curse. 

"An apostate with a healthy fear for mages sounds perfect to me." He whispers, a tug on the blank telling me he's placed his hand. 

"She's awake." Remarks a familiar, faint murmur at my right.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: light smut ahead

Cole's hand stretches out to crawl under the blankets. The pads of his fingers find my hand quickly, giving me a reassuring squeeze as my eyes flutter open. The three men sit around me in a semi-circle, each with varying degrees of agitation on their faces. Aside from Cole, that is, who gives me a sleepy lopsided smile. Fenris stands while Solas sit on a nearby chair. Cole is the closest, crouched on the flats of his feet, so we are eye-to-eye. I can't help but smile back. Sitting up from the couch I'm laid out on, I ring my arms around him in an awkward half-hug. I have to twist my body to meet his.

"Cole!" I buzz intensely in his ear. I missed him so much.

He stays stock still and doesn't hug me back. I recoil in embarrassment, forgetting myself for a moment. But as I slip my arms away, he brings his up in a fumbling bear hug. His hold is tight. Tighter than I expected. His embrace pulls me from my spot and has me falling on top of him. His feet fall back on their heels, but momentum keeps him rolling. My legs shoot into the air, knees still touching the couch. 

The tunic, now clean, sides down my thighs but thankfully stops at the crest of my butt. Cole locks me in place in his arms. My head comes to rest on his chest.

"Cole!" Solas shouts at the same time Fenris loudly curses at the blond man. Solas shoots up from his chair, making a bee-line for us. I can tell they're more surprised than angry at Cole by Fenris' less-then-covert glances at my ass. However, Solas takes the end of my tunic to pulls it up, so it covers me adequately again. His touch is short, and I can tell he's trying to avoid skin on skin as much as possible. 

When Cole reluctantly releases me, I clamber up from the marble floor. 

"Gentle, Cole! We don't want to accidentally trigger a memory again." Fenris chides. Solas shoots a glance at him, shaking his head faintly as if in private conversation. Fenris simply squints at the mage in quiet yet skeptical understanding.

As if nothing happened between the two, they turn back to Cole and me. 

"Memory?" I wonder out loud. 

Now that I think about it, I can't remember how I got here. My time at Skyhold is blurry. My recollection of the days I spent here are more like a multitude of emotions than actual events. Though my mind goes blank when I try to think further back than my first day in the infirmary. A sickening feeling of fear and loneliness is faint but nevertheless present.

"Now that you mention it..." I start. The three ignore me, Cole cutting me off completely.

"Ah, sorry, Emeralds. I guess I got a bit carried away." He helps me up. While I can't quite recall when I first met him, my mind associates him with a sense of excitement and sweet affection. 

"'Emeralds.'" I pivot on my heels to face Fenris. He tries the word in his mouth as if tasting for himself. "Can I call you that?"

Am I allowed to say 'no'?   
Fenris is the hardest to read out of the three. His face is carefully painted into his emotions. He's in control of every bit of himself, and he chooses to act relaxed and indifferent. 

"I suppose," I end up grumbling. I frown down at my feet. The name elicits an impression of hesitation as if some part of me didn't like it. 

"You suppose?" He challenges. "How about just 'Emerald'?"

"Fine." I glare at him—actually glare. The rigid set of my brows feels odd, and my temper fizzles out almost immediately. Fenris smirks down at me, stretching his arms to hold the back of his head. The tucked in seam of his shirt pulls out of his pants, exposing a sliver of his russet skin. 

I don't realize I've been watching him until his smile gets wider. My head ducks away, my face feeling hot all of a sudden. It's Solas that speaks again.

"In any case, Lethallan, we must discuss what has happened." He steps forward, blocking Fenris' from view. Solas shows me to the single chair and desk in the center of the room. I make a mental note to ask him what 'Lethallan' means later. A plate consisting of a few small pastries, strips of browned meat, and something yellow and fluffy. Steam rises from a ceramic mug next to the overflowing plate. When the warm smells reach me, my stomach forgets all else. It takes everything in my power to resist taking a bite.  
Solas pulls out the high backed ornate chair. I wait for him to sit, still drooling over the food. When he doesn't, I look over. He offers the seat with a single wave of his hand. I point at myself in question.   
Is that for me? He nods.

"I had the serving girl bring up extra portions since you'll be staying with me from now on." His tone is barbed, but he's facing Fenris with narrowed eyes. Fenris returns his glare with an even fiercer one. It's obvious an argument lays dormant in those words, but I ignore them.

"With you? For how long?" I can't quite remember past the few brief images of me staying in the infirmary. Sensations of dampness and cold darkness are the first to reappear. No positive emotions come from those flashes of memories. 

I glance about the room I'm in now. Murals of wolves paint the rounded walls. My makeshift bed is pushed up against the wall opposite a doorway. Above us, I can hear the cackles and cries of birds. One glance upward and I can see we're in a tower of sorts. 

"You will remain with me until you can control your magic properly." I nod as if I understand. I'll pretend I do for now. "You'll stay here until Alexius is caught."

The name sends a lightning bolt through me. My eyes seek out Solas' in bewilderment.

"Alexius?" I attempt to evoke my older memories again, only to find just a dark sense of panic in their place. Running. Am I running from someone?

"The man who attacked your clan. Don't you remember?" Solas peaks an eyebrow as if it should be obvious. "You came to the Inquisitor for help. Alexius got away. We're still looking for him."

"Yes. Yes." I nod. However, something still feels terribly off. "Could you refresh my memory? Did anyone in my clan survive?"

"A few hunters perished protecting the rest. Other than that, everyone came out unscathed." Solas gives me a small reassuring smile, avoiding my eyes. "Your keeper sent you to us for help." 

"Perhaps I should head back then." My brows drawdown in confusion.

"You don't wish to learn how to wield magic?" Solas asks.

"I do. But my...clan...is still vulnerable."

"It's alright, little mage. They are safe. It's you, Alexius is after." Fenris lifts a hand but stops just short of touching the top of my head.

"Why me?" I unconsciously step towards Cole. 

"You are an Elven mage. To a Tevinter Magister, that's a free Incaesnor." Fenris spits out bitterly. The room falls into silence at his burst of emotion.

"We can begin our lessons soon," Solas adds after the pause. 

I don't ask him to elaborate on that, thinking he probably won't tell me anyway. I have no reason to not believe them, but something keeps me from totally trusting them. However, I can't quite bring myself to care now, the steam coming from the meat on my plate too distracting. My stomach gives a painful croak. Cole's chest suddenly comes into view over the table. In the next blink, he holds a stiff ribbon of the meat out to me. 

"Eat." He speaks quietly, but there is a strength behind it. The flash in his eyes telling me that he won't accept anything other than a 'yes.' My head leans forward to bite down on his offering. The meat crunches and its salty taste makes me salivate more. My eyes meet Cole's above me, the sudden intensity in those stainless ink blots burning into me. His nostrils flare when I hold his gaze. I can feel all three sets of eyes on me as I chew. The room is silent except for the occasional call from the birds above us. Cole goes to pick up another piece once I've finished the first. Solas' hand shoots out to grab his wrist. Stopping him. 

"She can feed herself." His voice is strained. The tips of his ears are just a touch pink at the ends.

"But she wasn't." Cole counters, though it comes out more innocuous than irritated. Solas opens his mouth, probably to chide Cole more. I quickly grab a pastry and bite into it. Contrary to the meat's savory tang, this is delicately sweet. A flood of milky cream drips lazily into my mouth. The tender bread warms my insides as I swallow. A bead of cream weeps onto my bottom lip from in haste. My tongue flicks out to catch it.

"I'm eating," I assure the Elf, shaking the flaky dough pocket a bit to draw his attention. He glances over then promptly away again. Clearing his throat, Solas walks stiffy to the couch. He picks up and folds the blankets neatly from the floor.

"When you are finished with your breakfast, we'll begin training." He says to the wall. "There is a great advantage to learning defensive magic. Especially with Alexius wandering about."

That seems right. The idea of learning magic to defend my clan sounds perfect. Though, I may have to ask for directions back to my caravan. I can't recall where we were attacked. Or when. Or who my keeper is.

I sit and finish my breakfast. Only distracted once when Fenris steals my mug to sniff its contents. He pulls a sour face and sets it back down. Now curious, I examine the hot liquid further.   
Opaque-brown water gently sloshes back and forth. There isn't much of a smell, so I take a sip. After the hot burning sensation subsides, a robust bitter taste spreads along my tongue. Its all I can do to swallow it. 

"I'll ask for juice next time." Solas pipes up. Something about the way he slightly hunches his shoulders and looks away makes me think he's trying to hide a laugh. 

"No, no. This is good. I like it." I force myself to take another swig of the awful drink.

"I prefer something a bit stronger in the morning. Perhaps you could arrange for those accommodations, as well?" Fenris falls heavily onto the couch, branching out his long legs. He rests an arm on the side of the sofa and leans his head on it, slyly smiling up at Solas, who stands nearby.

"And who invited you to future breakfasts?" Solas merely peaks an eyebrow at the Elf.

"I invite myself, Robes." Is all Fenris says while crossing his ankles. Solas shows no emotion on his face, but the tick in his jaw tells me he's beyond irritated. Without responding to the other Elf, he turns to me. Glancing at my half-eaten plate, he motions for me to continue.

"Casting spells on an empty stomach can lead to fainting. Eat as much as you can so we can get started now." He walks away from the spot next to the couch and over to Cole and me. A burst of exhilaration expands in my chest at his words.

"Now?" When he told me he would teach me, I doubted he would act on his promise so soon. I can't put my finger on this presence of mistrust. 

"I said I would, didn't I? Eat." I waste no time in shoveling the yellow fluff, which I found out were eggs and the rest of my meat. I meet Solas at the doorway, only slightly put off by the staff he retrieved. 

"She requires all of her concentration for this. Both of you need to busy yourselves for an hour or two until we are done." Fenris huffs a chuckle lacking humor at Solas. 

"Sure. Sounds safe." He crosses his arms.

"The Templars will be nearby in case anything happens," Solas reassures both men. Cole chews on his lip, a distant expression on his face. 

Solas faces me again, assessing my outfit with a few quick glances, "Maybe we'd better get you some pants before we start."

I get pants too? The thought is strange but oddly exciting to me. A smile cracks across my face when I can't contain my joy any longer. 

"Ah, that reminds me." Fenris stands up from the couch. "While you two go play with magic, I'm off to buy some underwear." He steps forward then stops, "Though I may require your advice, Solas. You got the best look at the size she wears," He smirks, a bit of an edge to his voice. His eyes gleam with mischief, despite the hard edge to them. My cheeks heat at their expressions.

"Fen'Harel ma halam," Solas mutters, already sounding drained. He exits quickly with me in tow before the other Elf could say anything more.

Learning from Solas is not what I expected. First, he tried to get me to relax, "feel the tendrils of magic," he said. I'm starting to think I don't have magic after all. I wouldn't believe their assertions I had magic if I don't feel the weight of it inside me.

The enclosed courtyard is familiar, though I can't put my finger on why. I don't think I've been to this part of Skyhold yet. Maybe I was in one just like this one? Something about the four walls, and no roof makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. For some reason, I keep looking up as if expecting the sky to open. Solas had asked the two guards to empty the gardens out for our arrival. Solas tels me that those guards have been actively blocking my magic from surfacing. It's only by his command that they stop so I could learn. 

I rest my back against the stone well behind me. I'm able to easily sit crossed legged with my new pants. Though, I have to curl the edges up to stop them from dragging on the ground. The waist also sags, making walking a bit harder. But I wouldn't give them up for anything.   
I tilt my head in thought. Maybe for a handful of those pastries, but probably not. A wagon full, and I would -without a doubt.

"A mage should be able to feel the magic around her. You will be pulling the magic from the Fade to cast." His voice is low as he speaks. I peek open an eye to see his closed in focus. 

I've stopped trying to ask questions. He either says he'll get to it at some point or simply tells me to be silent. Learning to feel magic outside of myself sounds useless to me. I can already feel the impatient mana swirling inside of me, waiting for me to release it. I know I can do it. It's almost effortless to recall it—the bubbling intensity already at my fingertips.

Solas must sense the change in me. His eyes flash open with a tsk. He leans forward until his face is right in mine—hands falling on either side of my knees. 

"I wouldn't if I were you." He rumbles, a wolfish glint staring back to me in his silvery glower. My face is so close to his, my breathing halts. My heart is pounding. His eyes never move away from mine as he sits back. 

"Yes, sir." Fumbles from my mouth. Almost incoherently. The words feel familiar. There's a persistent nag at the back of my mind to remember where those words are from. I struggle to grasp it. Every time I think I've got a hold of a memory, it slips through my fingers. Solas seems to realize the mental battle in my head and speaks.

"Let's try again. Clear your mind, Lethallan." He rumbles.

It has to be well past the two-hour mark by the time Solas sighs in defeat. Despite his verbal coaching, I haven't been able to focus enough to "feel the magic." There are just far too many noises that interest me: the wind whistling through the cracks of the stone walls all the way to the laughter nearby. Birds clambering in the few trees that litter around us sing in short bursts. Every warble has me opening my eyes to watch them. Solas has become beyond frustrated. 

"I will have to find a different spot for tomorrow." He exhales in vexation.

"Ok," Is all I can think to respond with. I get up, my knees cracking, and follow Solas back to the main hall. Just as we reach the doorway, it swings open, inches from Solas' face. 

"Solas, thank Andraste, I found you. The Inquisitor needs you immediately." The red-haired woman says. I know that I've met her before... Leliana! That is her name. Unlike the positive emotions that the guys give me, I'm dreadful of her.

"Could it wait? Cole or Fenris should be here to watch her." I make a sound of contempt at his idea that I need a babysitter.

"Cole is right there." Leliana points to the man sitting on the stone ledge behind us. His feet swing in a juvenile manner. "Solas, follow me to the War Room." 

With a huff of annoyance, the Elf finally relents and follows the Spymaster. Glancing back once to spear Cole with ire. When the door closes again, I twist around to the blond.

"Were you here the whole time?" I ask, walking up to lean on the railing next to him.

"Yes. But I made sure you couldn't see me. That's what Solas wanted, isn't it?"

"I don't know how we both missed you for so long." I wonder.

"I didn't want you to see me, Emeralds."  
A bold sense of deja vu washes over me at that. I shrug my shoulders. He is a rogue, and a good one is one that can hide.   
Embarrassment rises when I realize Cole watched me fail to focus for more than two hours. 

The sweat under my breasts tickles as it runs down my skin. I use the cloth from my tunic to wipe it off. Sitting out in the sun has me coated in sweat. I was excited about my pants, but they've made me hotter. I'm sure I smell awful. 

"Cole, can you show me where the showers are?" Instead of merely giving me directions, he takes my hand and walks me to them himself. 

The soldier barracks are empty this time of day. Cole walks me passed the bunk beds to a room all the way in the back. Once in the bathroom, he doesn't stop until we've reached another door. The air gets soupy as he opens to reveal a cave-like bathhouse. Steam ripples off the hot spring dreamily. There is just enough natural light emitting from the open wall opposite us for candlelight to be useless. From that opening, I can see that this covered area is merely a small portion of the whole hot spring. The pool winds up the mountain to the back of Skyhold.

"The soldiers use this when they are dirty." Cole doesn't let go of my hand. Instead, he walks forward into the water. 

"Hey, wait. Cole, I need to undress first." I stop him with a tug. Taking my hand back, I drop my pants and rip off my shirt, not thinking anything of it. 

"You can take them off?" He wonders out loud, his head cocks to the side, eyes taking me in fully. 

"Uh, yeah." I step gingerly into the still waters, loving the warmth that seeps into my skin. My sweat from earlier had cooled on the way here. 

"Come on. Join me." The invitation was innocent. I just planned on soaking for a bit them climbing back out. Cole approaches the water, looking down into it, then up at me. I swim over to a small stone shelf and lean back into—the water collars around my shoulders at this depth. At the sound of water splashing, I turn to face Cole.

"Your clothes will get wet, Cole." My laugh dies in my throat as he walks closer. He wades in after me. His shirt's buttons swinging open allow me to view the course champagne hair that starts at his navel. It's perfectly accented by the 'V' of his hips. My eyes follow it down until his low slung pants hide the rest. 

A new emotion, foreign but not unpleasant, wriggles in my stomach. It's more like heated pressure below my belly. He comes up to me, an odd expression on his face. Like at breakfast, that intensity returns in full force. I'm now uncomfortably aware of my naked body under the water. 

He stops just short of between my legs. Sitting down, I have to crane my neck to see his face. My hands rise of their own accord. My body moves with an instinct I hadn't realized with there. Once again, I find the world around me, falling away into darkness. Although this time, my heart races for an entirely different reason. The shorter out of three, Cole makes up for his lack of height in other ways. Whereas Fenris and Solas both have slim Elven bodies, Cole is wider. Knots of muscles stand out tightly under his milky skin. His chest was more barreled despite being the only rogue out of the three. Where his light armor opens him up for melee attack, his body has to be tough enough to withstand a thrashing. His hands, course from his exertions, grip at my waist. The usual passive man is gone; in his stead is one made of hunger and greed. 

He slants his mouth over mine, muffling my heated gasps. I can't think of where to put my hands in time, so I just follow his lead. As he roves the back of my tunic, I follow suit a few seconds behind him. The brawn of his back jumps at my touch. He draws my clothing up, bunching it carelessly. The ferocity feeds into my own impatience. His hands splay themselves over the cage of my ribs under my tunic. I feel his thumbs brush the sensitive skin of my breasts. I suck in a sharp inhale, which he takes full advantage of.

The rough plain of his tongue curls to caress the top of my mouth. My own tongue seeks his out of curiosity. He tastes like cold rain after a dry spell. A heat akin to fire kindles within me, feeding off the passion Cole willing nurses into me. He retracts one hand from my back to cup the back of my head, angling it up more to his liking. The other hand presses me tighter against his chest. A knee cuts in between my legs, the course-spun thread of his pants rubbing me slightly. The friction of the fabric drags forward and back slowly, making the tension in my stomach clench. A low grunt vibrates from Cole's chest at the feeling of my nails digging into the flesh above his waist. His aroma of freshly laundered clothes, with a scarce scent of the pastries from this morning, fills my senses.

I think I've been overstimulated before. It was hardly a feeling I wish to remember. It's hard to even recall it. Before my time at Skyhold, a faded memory of bolts of magic coursing through me -paralyzing me in my place. It made me feel like I was being electrocuted. This wonderful new sensation with Cole is almost the same; however, it's only pleasure. 

In one swift move, Cole grabs me by my knees and pulls me towards him. My legs unconsciously wrap themselves about his waist. His lips leave mine to fall along the curve of my neck, sucking at the hollow of my throat. I gather a fist full of his hair, loving the way his teeth lightly nip at my skin. I don't want him to ever stop. 

He picks me up and switches our positions so that he's the one sitting. My legs spread to straddle his lap. The new seating allows for my breasts to rise from the water, just below his chin. My hands come between us, loving the impression of his stomach muscles between the opening of his sundered shirt. They twitch at my feather-light touches. 

As if hearing my unspoken wishes and never taking his hands from my breasts, the shirt is suddenly gone. He grins up at my face. I can't focus enough to be confused by his sudden undressing. Taking in my red cheeks and raw lips—eyes wide and wild with lust. His tongue flicks out to trace the seam of his pouty lips.

My hands travel lower in their exploration. The string of his pants is knotted. When I fumble with it, it too unexpectantly disappears. Once more, the oddity leaves my mind when I touch the swollen head of his cock. The heat of the pool is nothing compared to the ignition of my fingers as they melt into him. The member is fully erect and curves up at me. I retake hold of his lips as I stroke it.

A hand cups my ass, squeezing it while his other hand brings fingers to my folds. Rubbing the velvety opening, a thumb pressing itself into my clit. The pruning of his fingertips gives his teasing a mouth-watering edge to it. My thighs grip his waist when he finally inserts a finger. Then another when I devour it greedily. I ride his hand, creating small waves that crash against Cole. I feel the rumble of his voice in his chest as he speaks. Reiterating my pleasure in my ear, tickling me. His words are like poetry to me. Poetry I can't focus on, but I'm sure are beautiful.

My mouth opens from the sweet sensation of his fingers curling. He adds a circular motion to his thumb's pressure. I have to hold on to the broad set of his shoulders to keep myself steady. My nails dig red crescent moons into his skin. With his other hand, he pushes my upper body back. Once at the perfect angle, he holds my back in place. Bringing his mouth to my nipples. My head comes to rest next to his, my labored pants caressing the shell of his ear. I grip his fingers tighter as the pressure begins to crescendo. In a wash of electric pulses that sweep all the way to my toes, I release onto his hand. My body stiffens, and I throw my head, eyes going even further back. His tongue, still lapping at my breasts, leaves me twitching from the over sensitivity. I ride out the last of my orgasm in the crook of his neck, exhausted. 

We stay like this for what I think are only seconds. He lets me lay in his lap, his hand tracing patterns into the skin just below my ass. His cock is still standing at attention, cupped between the envelope of my thighs. 

Gingerly, I bring my hands back to it. It strains at me. I move up to speak in his ear. 

"Sit on the ledge," I urge. He peers down at me in question. To which I smirk, raising a single eyebrow. Without further prodding, he lifts himself from the water and scoots to sit on the edge. The muscles of his legs surround my head. His cock stands at a rigid eight inches. I keep eye contact as the pad of my tongue touches his head. The cords of his throat jump as he gives a hard swallow. My hands rest along the tops of his legs. I manage to take all of his length after my third try. The veins of his cock form ridges that knead the walls of my throats.

Cole's hands come up behind me to cup the back of my head. He guides my speed while my tongue grazes all the way up his shaft. His breath sputters out of him. he doesn't try to conceal his enjoyment. I gag when he bucks his hips, lost in the sensations of my mouth. His fingers weave themselves through my hair, drawing me impossibly closer. The muscles of his stomach ripple and flex with his release. His cum travels down my throat like liquid fire. Even if I had wanted to pull my head back, his hands would keep me there. One thumb rubs the side of my head as he empties himself. I patiently wait, keeping the pressure of my tongue curling around him.

When he finally relaxes, he leans back on his elbows. He stares up at the stone ceiling in thought, as he tries to calm his breathing.

"Cole?" My voice echoes in the empty spring. 

"Emerald." He responds, voice more resonant -raspier than it was before. He sits up, slipping into the water. Gliding out towards me with a giddy sparkle in his eyes. He reaches me with little effort. I laugh, attempting to get away by dodging his arms. I paddle out further in my escape. My feet lose contact with the bottom, slowing me down even more since I apparently never did learn how to swim. I let out a yelp when he ducks under the water. The chase sends a thrill to my heart, dread cropping up in the corner of my mind. The feeling of being chased dogges me horribly. My arms all but stop, my playfulness dying in a matter of heartbeats. Then I feel a tug on my ankle. Cole pulls me under with him, his arms entrapping me. My mouth opens in a startled scream, releasing most of my air. 

Sensing my change in mood, Cole swims up to the surface, keeping me in his arms. 

"I'm sorry, Emeralds. Sorry." He repeats. I don't know what he's apologizing for. I don't understand the fear that infiltrates at the oddest of times. I stop the flow of words with the mushing of my mouth on his.

"It's alright, Cole." I pull back an inch. My hand brushes the droplets of water from his cheek, a relucent smile winding about my face. Looking to distract from my weird mental state, I deflect. "Why don't we get some food? Solas may be looking for us."

He agrees silently, carrying me from the water. I dress quickly, but when I turn to him again, he's already fully clothed—my brows pinch. I'll have to ask about that later. Right now, my stomach pinches and moans in protest to any more delays.

"Can we eat at that tavern?" I ask on our way out. The old wooden bar was lively when we passed it last. 

"Of course," Cole answers, warmth wrapped in his tone.

*****  
Solas sits alone, staring at the mural in front of him. Reminiscing on when he painted it all those years ago. The jovial shouts from Herald's Rest penetrate the round walls even from this distance. That Elven woman, Emerald now, seems to be fitting in quicker than expected. Though, he knew that once his mental block in her mind dissolved, her memories would come flooding back. Right now, however, she deserves at least one happy memory other than that flower field. 

He shakes his head at the reminder of what he saw. Images, sensations, and feral emotions crashed into him upon initial entry into her mind. Like a horrifying flipbook, each memory of Alexius' experiments exposed themselves to him in graphic detail. Many were blurry and muffled as if her mind had tried to board up the more heinous ones like a haunted house.   
Nothing of note could be learned from these memories. Her consciousness, too caught up in fear and pain, to recall much of anything correctly. The Inquisitor is wasting her Spymaster's time with these questions. What truly interests him about Emerald is the odd energy he briefly felt before she pushed him out of her mind. 

His jaw clenches from frustration at the reminder. This completely untrained Elf had managed to force him out. No mortal mage had ever been able to do that before. To make matters worst, her mind has become utterly inexcusable to him since the forge. It was only for a ghost of a second he could enter again when she blacked out. Even then, there was just enough time to put a thin block against those memories. He's just glad he was able to do it in time. He hardly thought she'd last a full day without lapsing back into a hallucination.   
Somehow he doesn't believe she knows she's able to keep him out. She acts too ignorant towards magic for it to be deliberate. Though if he's learned anything from his travels, it's to never assume anything. Until he can understand what it is that's living in her, he doesn't plan to bring it up. Keep her thinking she has the upper hand. Then he'll reveal his cards. That's how he's always operated. If he has to get closer to her to do that, so be it. He can separate his emotions enough to avoid actual attachment. At least that's what he tells himself.

He didn't think Alexius would come after a slave, especially when she's being kept in Skyhold. But that mysterious energy he felt is making him change his mind. She doesn't hold information but instead power. And Solas has learned the hard way how determined Tevinter Magisters can be about gaining power.


	8. Chapter 8

"Steady your aim, Emerald." Bull knocks my feet into place, nodding once he's content with my position. One of his giant hands gently adjusts my elbow as I prepare to throw the dart. "That's it! Now keep your back straight and throw!" 

I pull my hand back a little farther and chuck the dart at the battered corkboard. It hits! ...well, the side of the dart anyway. It slams into the board then bounces pitifully back at me before rolling under another patron's table.   
This failure isn't as disappointing to me as the other one was with Solas. I find myself laughing at the amused disbelief on Bull's face. The wooden chair I plop down on creaks gleefully as if laughing with me. The sun has set since Cole, and I arrived at the Herald's Rest a few hours ago. The place has filled up too. The crowd makes me a bit nervous. Though, the longer I stay and drink with Bull, the less I care.

"Ah. We'll have to work on that. How about I get us some more drinks, and we can try again." Bull smiles down at me warmly, waits for my nod of agreement then heads over to the dwarf behind the bar. I watch him go, still stunned at the sheer size of him. When I first walked in, I froze in the doorway as I caught sight of him. But Cole reassured me he was kind to good people. That only calmed me for a second, as I started to wonder if I was a good person. My memories are so scattered, I can't recall anything I've done- decent or not.   
Though my fears quickly washed away after my first drink. I was halfway through my second cup of the golden liquid, only slightly put off by the sourness, when Bull offered to teach me how to play darts. Soon into the game, an elf came over to join us. I recognize her from earlier- Sera.   
"If you asked the people who clean the chamber pots, Bull couldn't aim to save his life. He sure as hell won't be able to teach you much." She sits down next to Bull on the other side of the table with her own frothy mug.

"Well, if you asked the kitchen serving girls, you'll learn that I don't ever miss." The Iron Bull bellows, drinking down the last of his ale in one go.

"They play darts in the kitchens too?" I ask. Bull and Sera laugh with each other. I look between them curiously.

"The kitchens, stables, and Undercroft too. Rarely in his room." Cole chimes in from his spot next to me.

"It's not as exciting if I'm not trying to get caught." Bull shrugs sharing a conspiratorial look with Sera.

"You must like the game to play it that much." I lick the excess foam from my lips and offer the mug to Cole. He stares blankly at it but doesn't take it. More for me, I guess.   
When I finished the mug entirely, I felt ready to take on anything. It's an odd sensation- being carefree in front of so many strangers. Sera's already shooting down her third as I'm still nursing my second.  
"Say," she starts, an odd look on her face, "you aren't one of those...Elfy-Elfs, are you? You know the ones that preach about the "correct" way to live like an Elf?"   
At my confused face, she relaxes. "Oh, thank all the ditties in Val Royeaux. I thought, for a second, we got another Solas. I think I'd poison the communal mead tonight if you were."

"What's the "correct" way to live?" I ask. "And who's judging it?"

"I don't know—some nutty hens who are long dead and gone by now. I only ask because you don't have any of the mud on your face like some other Elves."

"Mud?"

"Uh, yeah. The Valla-whatever. Wait-" Sera squints at me over her drink. After a heartbeat, she grins, "You know less about Elf shit than me! Oh-ho! I have to rub this in his face later."   
Her face drops into a playful pout. Her hand comes to rest on the table in front of her to prop her head with.   
"What I wouldn't give to have brain damage like that." I'm about to ask what she means by 'brain damage' when a shadow looms over us both.

"With the way, you speak, are you sure you don't?" Bull approaches the table with an arm full of drinks. He almost drops the lot of them when Sera punches his arm.

I like these drinks, I think to myself. I eagerly accept another from Bull. Taking a swig, I notice that the sourness doesn't bother me much anymore.   
I'm just about to chug the thing when a hand comes out of nowhere to cover my mouth. My reflects, as sluggish as they are right now, aren't given enough time to stop the mug from hitting whoever's knuckles and sloshing white foam onto my lap—the coolness of the drink feels good against my warming skin.

"Might I advise you to slow up on the cheap booze, Emerald?" Fenris plucks the mug from my hands, placing it on the table.

"Come on, Broody! Let the girl have some fun." Sera leans across the table to slide another mug towards me. I cringe inwardly at the sudden proximity, but her jolly mood is so contagious I end up just laughing along with her. 

"She is happy right now." Cole helpful adds, glancing at the other patrons around the tavern. "This stuff makes everyone happier. Then they get sad again."

"You caught us in the 'happy' part, now go sit in a corner before you bring on the sad too early." Sera sneers at the blond man.

"I imagine she won't be too happy tomorrow morning," Fenris grumbles, pulling up a chair on the other side of me. He frowns as he watches me take Sera's offered drink, yet, this time remaining silent. 

"Fenris, play darts with us!" I unintentionally end up shouting. Luckily everyone else seems to be just as loud.

"Now, you're talking! We could have teams since you're pretty new to the game." Bull winks at me playfully. "We could even throw in a few bets if your feeling particularly bold."

"Erm...I don't have anything to bet with." If my cheeks weren't hot before, they certainly were now. How embarrassing to not have a single thing to call my own. These clothes aren't even mine.  
As I think about it, how am I going to pay for all these drinks? My heart stutters in my chest.   
"The drinks... I can-," I could work to pay for my clothes and drinks. But I really have no skills to speak of aside from having magic I barely know how to wield. 

"Don't worry about it, Dimples. The drinks are on me tonight. Besides, I could hardly ask you to pay for this piss water." Bull cuts me off. The nickname startles me. I just met him, after all.   
"How about strip darts instead?" He offers instead.

"No," Fenris answers firmly and without hesitation. He glares at Bull up through his white lashes. 

"Aw, come on, Moody. You, Dimples, and Creepy can be one team. Bull and I can alternate shots." Sera pleads. Her cheeks have grown rosy, just like mine. Fenris clenches his jaw, obviously trying to rein in his growing temper. 

"Hey! Think of your own nicknames, Sera." Bull huffs in faux annoyance. 

"Yeah, Fen, please. I really want to play some more." I place a hand tentatively on his, resting on the table. I have no idea where the confidence to touch him comes from, but I'm thankful for it nevertheless. Maybe it's from what Cole and I did at the hot spring, or perhaps it's the freeing powers of the ale. Regardless, I'm able to handle everything much better with it.

"I don't think you know what you're asking to play." 

"I was practicing with Bull and Cole earlier." I point out archly, wanting to show him that I'm not as inexperienced as I appear. I feel invincible, like I couldn't lose at anything if I tried right now.   
His face freezes before pivoting to glare at the two sitting at the end of the table.  
"Hey. Hey. We were ~practicing~ throwing darts. Nothing more, Elf." Bull tries to reason with the glowering Fenris without laughing. He fails. 

"Ah, don't be such a big-baby-bitch, droopy-ears. Three against two is plenty tilted in your favor." Sera rolls her eyes.

Fenris releases the tension in his shoulders suddenly as if in defeat. He turns away with a snarl. His lack of rejection is taken as an agreement as Sera and Bull get up.  
I hurry to my feet, almost falling if it wasn't for Cole, and make my way over to the board. Fenris watches me intently from the same spot at the table. Rolling my eyes the same way I see Sera roll her's, I bounce back over to the Elf. When I'm close enough, he has to reach out and steady me before I lose my balance again. Cole goes over to pluck the darts from the wall.

"Solas is going to flay me alive when I bring you back." He pulls me down to sit next to him.   
My eyes widen in horror. Panic always quick to set in. I think back to Solas' threats in the courtyard this morning. At the time, I only took them half-seriously. The thought of a flayed Fenris evokes a few blurred memories of shifting shadow and the feeling of visceral pain across my body. I can't make out anything definite, but their existence alone frightens me. Why can't I remember anything? I noticed scarring along my body at the hot springs but didn't think anything of it, mostly since Cole...distracted me.

"He will?" I whisper, suddenly deathly sober. Fenris visibly regrets his comment. Cole drops a dart into my hand, causing me to turn to him. He gives me a sweet, reassuring smile, which calms me a little. I smile back and accept the dart.

"A figure of speech." Fenris can't seem to get the words out fast enough. By this time, Sera and Bull have meandered over to the board. They call back to us, "Can we get this started already?"

Fortunately, Sera and the rest of us were spared what was probably going to turn into a scene by a Footman hollering for Cole.

"The Inquisitor requests your presence for a mission at your earliest convenience." The man ducks back out the door just as quickly and quietly as he came in. The noise dulls for a moment at the mention of the leader. In the brief moment of relative stillness, Cole and I make eye contact. Then just like that, we are down one player on our team. Or maybe it's just me? I glance over at Fenris, who still hasn't moved. 

"Oi! Fenny! Your girl's down a player. You really want her playing either of us alone?" Sera comes up behind me to wrap both arms around my middle. "Poor, poor, little robin. Who knows if she'll be taken advantage of?" Sera hums ponderously in my ear. Her fingers play with the drawstrings of my pants.   
All I can do is laugh. She isn't serious, is she?  
Fenris' head snaps to glare daggers at the woman. He rips from his seat and storms over to us. Sera back peddles quickly, avoiding any potential swings. 

"Oh? Now you want to play? Tell me you aren't cashing in your morals for a cheap peek." Sera tsks and shakes her head slowly at Fenris. The Elf literally raises his hackles at that. If he could, he would for sure be growling like a dog right now.

"Alright, Dimples. The game is easy. Your team gets to throw two darts each turn. I guess with just the four of us, we could play with one dart per player. One person throws their dart, and their team member has to get their dart in the same triangle. If the team fails to land in the same area, they don't get those points. Or, for the purposes of this game, you are deducted one article of clothing. But if one team manages to land in the same triangle, the opposing team is obligated to strip then, too. Simple, really." Sera tips her stool dangerously back as she explains, an impish glint in her eyes.

"Strip? What does that mean?" I ask Fenris, my words slurring together. I really need to use the bathroom too. 

"It doesn't matter because we aren't losing." He mutters past pursed lips. He looks particularly menacing as he crosses his arms and stares resolutely at the other team.

"Who goes first?" Bull wonders aloud. He consults Sera, "Should we show mercy?"

"Hell, no. They're going down in a fiery blaze. A naked fiery blaze." She smirks. "We go first."

"Like hell, you are. We're going first, you piss ants." Fenris argues back. The two elves are equally matched in terms of temper, as far as I could see.  
Sera drips the last of her mug into her mouth before snatching the darts from Fenris from his hands quick as a viper. She dances out of reach with a jovial laugh. 

"Live a little, Elfy." Her lith body turns sideways as she judges where to shoot. In one perfect motion, she spears through a red triangle. "While Bull takes his turn, I'll be off for another round."  
She turns on her heels, winking at me as she goes. Bull sidles up with his dart. He arcs straight towards Sera's mark, landing a few inches away but still in the same area. He gives a drunken whoop of triumph. Sera comes back with her arms full, not at all surprised he got it. When she hands mine over, she rims the lip of the mug with a trimmed nail.

"You know the rules, you two. That's one point for us. How's that for 'not losing,' eh, Stripey?" Sera sticks her tongue out at my steaming teammate. I tug on his arm to get his attention.

"It's just one point, Fen. It's only the first round." He huffs, taking the drink from my hand to take a hearty gulp before returning it. I don't quite understand why he's getting so agitated.

"Shirts! Shirts! Shirts!" Sera chants across the aisle. Bull joins her when we don't move.

"Alright!" Fenris snaps at the two. He reaches for the buttons of his shirt, undoing them until he's able to loose his shoulders and lift the garment. The pale lines highlighting his body travel down his neck and swirl at his stomach before going lower. The second thing I notice is the raised flesh in a similar place to mine. He avoids my gaze.

"Now you, Dimples!" Sera slams her empty mug down against the table. She turns to Bull in a mock whisper, "Dimples, yeah. Let's find out if she has two sets of 'em."

"Um," I look around at the rest of the tavern. A few people have left, but there is still a good number. Some even watching our game. A couple points at Fenris like he's some sick sideshow. It sets my teeth on edge.

"If you want to quit, say it now. I have a feeling you'll regret this otherwise." Fenris warns. He leans back against our table, seemingly oblivious to the whispers.

"I don't care." I realize the connection to these ales and my lack of caring. It feels nice- freeing to not be chained to worry all the time. I start to lift the bottom of my tunic, only to be stopped by Fenris again. His hand grabs mine.  
"I'm serious, Emerald." His dark green eyes seek out mine in earnest. They hold a nervous glitter, which I dismiss as concern over how Solas would react.

"Fenny!" Sera whines. "Let her do what she wants! She's a grown woman for Andraste's sake." Sera kicks her legs out at the Elf clumsily.   
She giggles when Fenris catches her foot and throws it back at her in anger. I laugh at her teasing and pull away from Fenris. There is little I wouldn't do if I always felt like this. What's a little nudity? He's shirtless too. If he doesn't mind the stares, what do I have to fear?  
I rip the tunic from my body, shivering at the sudden exposure. My pants are still loosely hanging off my hips. I drop the clothing to the cheers of Sera. A creeping sense of familiarity tries to pop into my mind. However, this time I don't try to grasp at it. The memory doesn't feel like a good one anyway.  
My body looks sew together with the number of lines crossing it. Cole didn't mention them. Maybe I'm just overthinking the gossiping voices nearby.

"I love this girl!" Sera grins widely at me. I join her, laughing along with Bull. Fenris remains fixated on my tunic on the ground. His reaction, or lack thereof, gives me my second inkling of doubt. Then, I'm handed another mug, and the feeling flies out the door entirely.

It's our turn now. Standing up from my seat, the room seems to liquify in front of my eyes. An arm comes out to steady me, though I don't know whether it was Sera, Bull, or Fenris.   
Shaking off the feeling, I step forward to rip the darts from the board and stand back at the designated line. My eyes waver from where I want to aim despite my effort. Plus, standing on my own is proving harder to do than I thought.  
A wriggling tendril of magic worms it's way to the tips of my fingertips. As if I were being steadied by an invisible hand, my stance becomes rock solid. My vision focuses, and I smile to myself. How's this for feeling magic, Solas?  
I snap my wrist, my magic pushing a bit more force into the throw. My dart thankfully buries this time. The throw was a little wide, but this was still leagues better than my last practice throw. The group quiets. All at once, the feeling of drunkness overwhelms me once more as my magic withdraws.

"Cheaters are stripped and hung from the rafters." Bull threatens lowly. He leans one lumbering arm on his knee and raises an eyebrow at me.

"I didn't cheat!" I lie through my teeth. "Your guidance really helped me, Bull. I thought you'd be proud." I smile sweetly. 

"Hm." Is all he says, still considering me.

Fenris gets up and takes aim. Easily getting the point for us.

"Welp-didn't actually think they'd get a single hit on us." Sera whips her shirt off without any prompting. Then I realize,

"Bull, you don't have a shirt to take off." I'm surprised it's taken me this long to point out. 

"No matter," He states simply, unbuckling his belt. Sera keels over with laughter at Fenris' reaction, falling from her chair to the dusty floor. Just as Bull's leathers loosen from his hips, the tavern door slams open. Solas stands furious in the light of the burning fireplace between us.

"Emerald." His voice is flat but heated. Somehow, he makes the single word sound terrifying—even Fenris braces himself. "What do you think you are doing?"  
Solas strides towards us, only faltering once when he notices our state of dress. He turns to Fenris, "This is what you deem a fitting activity for someone like her. Are you out of your mind, Fenris?"  
Fenris stands from his leaning position, "She isn't a toddler, Solas. She was having fun." His words are strong, but he does lift his eyes from the floor. 

"Regardless-" Solas continues, but Sera interrupts him.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, she's a cheater anyway." She snatches her top from the floor, though she doesn't put it on, reveling in Solas' discomfort.   
At first, I worry I've actually upset her. Although as she climbs the stairs with Bull up to their rooms, she blows me a kiss, and I know she's not ~too~ upset.   
Solas picks up my discarded tunic and hands it to me.   
"Do you know how dangerous it is to use any magic right now? Untrained as you are, you stand to blow this whole tavern up if you aren't careful." 

"S-sorry." I apologize sheepishly, pulling my clothes on. I try to stand to follow Solas and Fenris out. I assume the fun is over now that half the group's left. Just like before, my vision swims, and I have to support myself with the wall. Solas' brow furrows.

"Are you...?" Understand dawns on him, and he closes his eyes as he releases a deep breath. Fenris comes up to me, wrapping an arm across my waist. 

"We will speak of this in the morning. For now, the best thing for you is to sleep." Solas opens the door for us, following closely behind.  
Fenris is a welcome buffer against the cold breeze, and I find myself snuggling further into his arm. He rubs mindless circles with his thumb where he touches me by my hip.

"I didn't mean to upset anyone." I sniff, unable to keep track of, let alone control, the void of raw emotion I've turned into. One minute I'm happy and surrounded by people I dare call friends; the next, I'm crying into one of their chests.

"No one's upset with you, Em. Solas was just worried as usual." I feel Fenris' head twist around, probably checking to make sure Solas was still there. 

"I did use magic. Only a little, I promise." The admission is muffled by Fenris' chest. He didn't put his shirt back on.   
We come to a halt, yet we aren't anywhere close to Solas' room when I lift my head. I look up at Fenris in question.   
He swoops down to pick me up from my hips, cradling me. One of his hands comes up to nestle my head into him.

"It's always the damned mages," he swears under his breath.


	9. Chapter 9

A cool summer breeze caresses the curve of my back. I breathe the decadent air of the wildflowers around me. The place feels familiar, and, for once, I want to remember a memory.   
I desperately try to grasp on to any and all details of this field. Though, reaching out to touch the feathery petals of the wildflowers only makes them hazier to me. I blink my eyes to clear the murkiness, but each time I reopen them, there are fewer and fewer details to see.  
My head swivels around in my growing frantic state, eyes catching on a figure behind me. The sun casts a deep silhouette over them. Their form is crisp compared to everything else.  
I'm able to make out two pointed ears and rigid shoulders. Though, he's too broad to be an elf. His silent presence fills me with dread.  
The edges of this oasis crumble until I'm left standing in the blankness. I neither float nor fall as I'm stuck in this limbo. The figure remains stock-still.   
I'm about to call out to them when the sensation of being pulled away rolls a bout of nausea through me. My eyes pinch themselves shut as I'm rocketed through this blinding white void. Awash of spacial awareness has me opening my eyes again. My body, which I hadn't noticed was weightless, solidifies at once.  
It feels like my head is trying to split itself open. The incessant throbbing in my forehead eventually wakes me up enough to pry my eyes open. Warm morning light breaches through the tightly knitted blanket I've dubbed over my head in a useless attempt to block the rays.   
I don't know where I am or how exactly I got here. I assume I'm back in Solas' tower room, except the couch I'm laying on is bumpier than I remember it being. It smells better, too, like spicy oranges.   
I find myself almost falling back asleep when my pillow twitches under me. There's a soft murmur before everything goes silent again.   
My body's now wide awake. I drag the blanket from my face just enough to peek out from it to find Fenris. He sleeps soundly, facing upward. His arm comes around me, shoulder propping my head up. His other arm is slung over his eyes in a vain attempt to ward against the sunlight. The leg closest to me has become tangled in both of mine in our sleep. With the awkward way he's laying, his legs hang limply off the side of the couch, ending somewhere out of sight. One of my arms stretches across his flat stomach.   
In the cold hours of the morning, the keep is chilly. His skin is ridged with goosebumps along with the odd white scars. They are symmetrical, unlike mine. Prettier, too, I think to myself.   
I'm able to briefly recall being carried back from the tavern by him. He set me down on Solas' couch, but the sudden withdrawal from warmth had my hands clinging to him. I remember a hushed argument before Fenris finally sat down beside me. As the hours passed, he must have repositioned himself to how he's lying now. I don't think he planned on falling asleep if his lack of blanket is any indication. He still doesn't have his shirt on.  
His breathing is soft and slow and even faintly smelling of ale. I can only imagine what mine must smell like, as I drank way more of that stuff than he did. 

What startles me is the pair of pale blue eyes just behind the arm of the sofa. Then recognition sets in, and I smile at Cole, who seems to melt in response.  
However, when my body tensed, the small movement agitated Fenris enough to wake him. His arm pulls me tighter against him in what I imagine is a reflex to being roused from sleep.   
He's up in seconds. His body rising swiftly- bringing me up to his chest in a protective hold. His other hand goes to his hip for the subtly hidden combat knife. Fortunately, Solas or Cole must have taken it off when he fell asleep.   
Fenris fixes his terrifying glare at the innocent-looking man.

"Back off, ghost." He rumbles darkly. He still manages to sound threatening even with his sleep-addled voice. It takes a second for reality to come back to him entirely. I can hear his breath hitch when he realizes what he's doing. As if I burned him, he releases me and pushes himself to his feet. He stretches out his arms and back, rubbing his face a few times feverishly. 

"Good morning, Cole." I greet gingerly to avoid increasing the ringing in my head. I curl back into the warm spot on the cushions.   
Cole comes around from the end of the sofa to take Fenris' spot. Picking up the sprawled blanket, I wrap myself up again. 

"Can you sleep with me tonight?" Cole asks, eyes wide and quizzical. He imitates Fenris by draping an arm across my shoulders and burrowing me into his chest. Instead of leaning away like Fenris had, Cole bows until his cheek sits on top of my head. I smile up at him.  
"Sure. The nights are cold- this blanket is barely warm enough for me." Fenris gives a humorless guff. He walks over to the highback chair, grabbing the shirt that looks suspiciously like his from the top of it. At that moment, I notice Solas sitting there.   
Fenris turns on his heel without looking at either of us and is out the door- slamming it shut behind him. I blink after him in stunned confusion.  
"Is he alright?" I turn to Cole. He doesn't say anything though I know he heard me. His fingers play with the last of my burnt ends that stick out from beneath the blanket. I may not know why he stormed out, but the pit growing in my stomach only needs to know someone is angry with me. It leaves my skin itching as my mind races trying to understand what I did wrong. Was it something I did last night? This morning? 

I think back to how he reacted when he realized he was holding me. Is he disgusted by me? The dirty Dalish elf with no ink- the one can't even remember her own clan or keeper.   
I roll a clump of fried red hair in between two fingers. Was this the work of the slavers who attacked my clan? The man, Alexius, did he do this? Just thinking of the name steals my breath away.  
My clan is out there somewhere, wondering when I'll be back. Maybe once I'm back, I'll remember them. 

Solas sits with his back to us, pouring over a book. I can already tell the set of his shoulders that he's upset too. "Good morning, Solas."

"There's good news regarding Alexius' capture." Solas ignores my greeting and goes for the steaming cup sitting on his table. Shaking his head at the taste, he sets it back down in repulsion. His tone is neutral- if boarding on a bit irritated. The heat in his voice makes the blood sap from my body. The thought of two people mad at me is almost too much. I can feel my emotions bottom out, only left with the draining state of fear now.   
I acknowledge I'm at their complete mercy while staying here. The thought is not a new one as far as I can gauge by my barely-there memories.

I go to speak, maybe ask about what's happening with Alexius, but my mouth is suddenly too dry. My head forces itself down to face the floor. I can't stop my heart from racing. I sit up and plant my feet on the cold stone floor in a lame attempt to ground myself. My panic only intensifies because I don't understand why I'm reacting like this.   
Long insidious fingers from memories pry at the conscious parts of my mind, wishing to take over. Without having to see them, I can feel the violence that dominates them.   
While ruminating in my downward spiral, Cole says something which makes Solas turn to face us. He gets up and hurries over.

"Cole, can't you do something?" Dread fringing his words.

"It's harder to heal the hurt when she can't remember it completely," Solas swears under his breath. Cole places both of his hands in mine. How does he know I can't remember?   
Solas holds my face and closes his eyes in concentration. Hooks of magic, which I recognize as Solas, delicately test the wall in my mind. I mentally take ahold of his presence and throw him from my body. I hate the feeling of another person inside my mind.  
He opens his eyes. Despite his steady gaze, I can sense his tension alongside my building magic. 

"My barrier is...damaged." His eyes flit between the two of mine as if going through his diagnosis with himself. "It seems our mage is more powerful than I initially anticipated."

"Tell her you aren't angry. She may not know why, but some part of her remembers her hurt."

"The barrier I made was meant to stop this. Why is it weakening!" His shouting has me reeling backward into the couch- my body freezing when I realize I'm cornered. Cole's words seem to finally make their way to Solas.

"Angry? I'm not-" Solas reaches out again, but I grab his hands before he can touch me. By the widening of his eyes, I know I've surprised him. They narrow dangerously while a similar but wholly wilder energy tries to invade my mind. It presses against me, trying to contain the frantic power of my magic. The distinct image of a wolf's jaw chomping down on my magic carves its way into my thoughts. My magic overflows from between its teeth as there is too much of it to stop.

"Cole." Solas snaps, visibly struggling. The one word has the man hesitating, though he eventually jumps into action.   
Cole lays a hand on my shoulder, and if it weren't for the mental battle I was currently fighting, I would shake the touch off. I can tell Cole means to distract me- or maybe calm me.   
However, Solas accidentally works against Cole's soothing influence. He twists his wrist, so it's him holding down my hands now. The recalcitrant force in my mind wishes for me to yield to it as he does. 

The wolf steps on the back of a rabbit, it's maw collaring the small creature's neck. The rabbit lets out a scream as the wolf holds it down, though never actually wounding it through all the floundering, springs memories. 

"Knife-ear." The whisper rockets through me. I already know who says it without having to see him. Alexius blips in and out of my mind's eye. One second he's in the room with us, the next in my head. With my memories' straining to be free and Solas' fight to keep them in, little bits slip through.

"Surrender to me, Emerald. It'll be better this way." Solas all but pleads. However, the intensity in his eyes tells he is past asking. His face elongating into the snout of a snarling wolf. I blink, and it's just him again. 

The magic strengthening inside of me continues to grow, spurred on by his lack of ability to truly pin me down. 

"Submit!" The wolf orders down at the rabbit, who continues to fight against him. She thrashes, never getting a foothold for long before the wolf breaks it. Regardless, she continues to resist. With the building of my magic, I watch as the rabbit transforms as well. Suddenly the colossal wolf is battling a snapping coyote instead. 

"I've no wish to harm you, vhenan. But I can't have you free of mind just yet." The wolf slams his palm to my forehead. In one final burst of dominating force, he traps my consciousness in a gilded cage. His eyes flash a pure white before extinguishing. Just as I'm about to be overcome with his magic, I propel him backward in a last vain attempt to defend myself.   
The wolf is blown away from me- thrown into the table and chair with a resounding crash. The tendrils of magic seated in my mind like veins are ripped from me. I scream from the pain of their exit, tumbling off the edge of the couch. The act pulls all of my memories to the forefront of my mind.   
Cole is on me in a heartbeat, and while his hands only seek to make sure I'm ok, I swat them away. 

"Please stop, Emeralds. We aren't here to hurt you." At this moment, with the flooding of my memories overwhelming me, I forget who he is. Right now, he's just a man on top of me. I can't stop the tears from flowing freely. 

"Leave me alone!" I beg, throwing my hands up to shield my body from him. When he doesn't touch me, I bolt from the floor and sprint for the door- past the double doors of the throne room and down the set of stairs. It isn't until I run headlong into a chest that I finally stop.   
Fenris looks down at me, his hands deep in his worn pockets. I stand in anticipation of him reaching out to me. But he remains still, a distracted frown blighting his face. His legs stay suspended in frozen movement.  
In fact, as I glance around the bustling courtyard, I realize no one is moving, not even the birds in the sky. They hang like mobiles above me. An odd electric green haze seems to pull from my chest to dome over the skies of Skyhold. The fingers of the energy look precisely like the magic I now remember Alexius using on me all those weeks ago.

"F-Fenris?" I strike out tentatively. He makes no reaction. I wave a hand under his gaze to reaffirm what I'm seeing. It's like time has stopped totally. I swallow nervously.

Maybe it's the years of keeping my magic hidden from the magisters, but my first instinct is to run. They already know about my magic, but if the Inquisitor found out or- Andraste preserve me, Solas found out...   
My time in Skyhold's prison has my feet moving before I've actually come to a decision.   
This is for the best, I tell myself. Away from Skyhold and definitely Alexius. I see now why they didn't want me to return to him. My life here, even for the short time it was, was blissfully ignorant to the horrors I went through.   
Yet...now, I just want to be someplace no one knows about my magic. Somewhere I can be accepted readily.  
There's only one place I know of like that, and as I set out past the giant stone gates of Skyhold, I'm determined to find it. Leliana offered information about my clan. It's not entirely impossible to find them on my own if she was able to.   
Well, unless she was lying to get me to talk.   
I look back at Skyhold as I leave. The green haze appears to be following me. Hopefully, that means I'm not trapping the fort to sit frozen in time forever. I wouldn't know how to reverse the spell either way.

*****

"I've no wish to harm you, vhenan. But I can't have you free of mind just yet." I grit out through clenched teeth.   
Her power is immense, and unlike any, I've encountered before. I've just about contained her when she pushes back. I'm thrown further into the room, the noise of my crash making a few heads poke over the balcony above us. Her screams of pain tear through my chest and leave me breathless.   
Cole attempts to calm her down. Although his powers of compassion are too little against the mess of her mind at the moment. I jump to my feet again quickly. But something is off.  
Emerald is abruptly gone from the room. Cole's hand grasps at the empty air where her body was just lying. Shadows encompass the walls where they didn't seconds ago. 

"Emerald?" I probe around the room with my eyes. My impatience grows with each moment I can't find her. My legs all but sprint out the door. The sky is black as night. I blink in stunned disbelief at the moon painted in the center of the sky. Wasn't it just morning?   
Behind me, I can hear the panic break out as others notice the anomalies. The Inquisitor's booming voice calls for her advisors in an impressive show of responsiveness. From the commanding tone, I imagine they think they are under attack. Little do they know, the tiny Elven woman was the one to do this.   
I'll let them come to that conclusion on their own, however. I've no interest in the Inquisitor sending out bounty hunters to find her. No, she's mine to find. My lack of control over a less than apprentice mage has left me...desperate to fix that. Her power just surprised me. Now that I know what to expect, I'll be able to corral her quickly—Conceviabley before anyone notices her suspicious absence.

"Solas, she isn't here." Cole runs up to me, seemingly unmoved by the sudden shift in time. "I-I can't find her." His voice breaks in an uncharacteristic show of heartache.

"I have a feeling she's long from this place." My knuckles pop as I dig my nails into my palms. "Nevertheless, I have an idea as to where she might be heading. Gather the horses- we'll tie her up kicking and screaming if we have to."


	10. Chapter 10

The fatigue sets in almost immediately. It's hours later when the ribbons of green magic finally dissipate—the thin, arching tendrils fading until they recede entirely back into my chest. And along with it's vanishing, my magic is nowhere to be felt. It's as if I was born without it. 

The sun has fallen from its high position and rests on the rise of the mountain in front of me. The warm amber reflects its light off the snow straight into my eyes, making me squint. I find myself wondering if I'm merely walking in circles. While it isn't snowing, the wind has taken to whipping across the flat plains of the ridge, covering my tracks in a needling, powdery dust. I can't stop the violent shuddering of my body as another stiff breeze cuts through my thin layer of clothes. The lack of feeling in my feet is an ominous foreshadowing of the rapidly cooling temperatures. I don't dare stop, though. If my magic wasn't enough to condemn me, my escape definitely is. 

It takes all the power in me to lift one foot after another through the deep snow. The grey stone of Skyhold is no longer visible, and I've reached a point of descent from the mountain. The further I trudge, the more I can see what lies ahead of me.   
Aside from just more snow, I can barely make out a few stone structures in the distance. They stand like tome stones against the stark white of the distended clouds overhead. As unwelcoming as they appear, I realize they are my best shot at surviving the fast-approaching night. Depending on when or if whatever spell I cast over Skyhold wears off, I should have a healthy lead on the Inquisitor. Though, at this pace, it wouldn't take them long at all to catch up.

My knee suddenly buckles under my weight, sending me careening forward. I don't have the energy to steady myself before my body begins to roll down the mountain. The cold rushes up my back and holds me in an unforgiving grasp. The air from my lungs is forced out in a harsh breath. I can't tell where I am as I'm tumbling. My body slams up against the edge of a rock hidden beneath the snow, sending an electric shock of pain zipping through me. My cry is muffled by the loose sheets of snow that whirl by. 

Finally, I come to an abrupt halt at the base of a tree- the rough bark almost incomprehensible under my numb hands. My head jerks back with a resounding "thunk" when it hits. Mounds of snow cover my vision enough to block out the setting sun. The cold seeps further into my skin, numbing to my bones- the sensation, reminding me of my isolated periods locked away in Tevinter. Just like then, I'm alone in the damp cold. However, this time, magic could save me.

I reach into myself as Solas instructed, searching for that energy but find nothing. That space in my chest is void of anything. Whatever spell that was must have drained my reserves completely. My body can't even scrounge up the energy to cry at my predicament. 

So, here I lay. Warmth and energy spent and only a couple miles between Skyhold and me- between Solas and me. The image of him gripping my hands as he fought my mind runs by me. He wanted me to stop fighting him. To submit to him. 

Maybe I should have. The memories aren't good ones. But they are mine. With what little I have in this world, shouldn't I at least have my mind to myself?

Only the whistling of the wind answers my silent question.

I don't know how long I laid there- pinned up side-long against the tree. My arms and legs are so weak, any attempt to dig my way out of the snow comes up useless. Yet the thought of dying out here, alone, terrifies me. I realize, even death at the hands of the Inquisitor would be better than succumbing to the chilly silence of the Frostbacks. 

The cut in my side has ceased throbbing. I wish I could check on it, yet the searing twinge of pain in my neck at every movement has me laying as still as possible. 

It's getting harder and harder to keep my eyes open. The snow doesn't feel that uncomfortable anymore. Now it's almost like being hugged by Cole- his minty balm to my soul. The pine tree's spice, similar to Fenris' scent, lulls me deeper into sleep. Although, when I close my eyes, all I see are Solas' eyes, glowing hauntingly white. Still, sleep manages to find me.

Time must have passed. But it feels like I just closed my eyes when a wet nose pokes through the snow. The snout gives a tentative nip at my nose before backing away. I hear it bark, then dance around in an excited shuffle. My head swims as I try to move it. The pain radiating from my side has moved to throb in my forehead. The thought of falling back asleep is pushed to the back of my mind when a voice cuts through the snow.

"Hush, boy. You'll scare off everything in a mile from us." A deep timber whispers scoldingly. The dog gives another whine. It sounds like he sits down right outside my snow mound. Practiced footfalls make their way over to me. I don't struggle as a stick prods me, probably expecting a wild animal to lunge out of the snow. No matter how loud my mind screams at me to run, my body stays unmoving. 

When nothing comes out to attack, the stick lowers, and a pair of hands brush back the layers of snow. When gloved hands find me, they pull away quickly as if startled. 

"What in..." The voice speaks right above me. I can barely make out the silhouettes of two figures standing above me.

"Is she dead?" A softer voice asks the first.

"Still breathing-barely." The man closest to me takes off a glove and holds his hand under my nose. A scream lodges in my throat at the thought of this stranger touching me. Only a garbled croak passes my lips.

"Wrap her up and put her on the sled. We'll see if Athlan can help her." The silhouette finishes uncovering me. He makes it look so easy compared to my attempts. 

"You want to bring her back with us?" The man behind him leans over to get a better look. 

"You suggesting we leave her out here?" 

The second voice chokes on his answer for a moment before speaking, seeming to curse in another language.  
"I'm just saying it may be a waste of time. She's half-dead already." 

"Let's wait for the healers to decide that, Ellan." Silently, the deeper voiced man kneels in front of me, his arms dragging me up. I want to yell at him to stop. To scream that I don't need their help. But my eyes are closing again, and I can't control the overwhelming need to sleep. 

A coarse blanket falls around my shoulders. The chill in my body is too intense for the blanket to do much in the way of warmth. The two argue a bit more in that other language, then they seem to come to a reluctant agreement.

"Whatever. You don't find it strange that a city Elf is all the way out here? Someone probably left her here for a reason, Valan." The soothing voice warns the other. I'm placed gently on creaky boards of what I assume to be the sled.

"All I see is a sister in need of help." The deep rumble of his voice is right in my ear. I feel him move away, and the two rattle off in their language for a second longer before falling silent. I fall asleep to the pulling of the sled.

"Well, it was a good thing you and Ellan stumbled upon her when you did." A voice like a crackling fire bleeds into my silent void of sleep. "Where did you say you found her?"

"On our way back from our hunt- halfway down the mountain." The same bassy voice I heard before answers. What was he called before? Valan? 

As my mind floats closer to consciousness, I'm able to make out the golden light of a fire and the sensation of the scratchy bedding under me. My body aches everywhere. The skin on my back and chest feels too tight.

The new voice sighs, obviously exhausted. The sound of a wooden chair whines as someone sits down heavily. 

"Ma Serranas, Athlan. She's stable?" The rumble comes from the corner of the room by the fire. 

"Yes, yes, boy. She'll be alright. But I have to run- Niamh told me her husband's rerunning a fever. She'd have my neck if she knew I was sitting here talking when I could be over there." There's a bit of shuffling as the man gets up. The sound of a door opening and closing peels off at the opposite end of the room. "I will just be in the next house if you need me." 

Then silence. I can feel the remaining man's eyes on me, heavy like another blanket. Nothing but the roar from the fire can be heard. My fingers burn like hot static as I flex them under the blankets. Reflexively, I reach for my magic, my heart racing when I find it still empty. 

"Plotting?" The voice asks, suddenly a foot away. His nearness has my eyes shooting open in surprise. I try to sit up, but a spasm of pain in my side has me falling back down.

"Easy, da'assan. You've only friends here." He brings his hands up to show he means no harm. In the adequate lighting, I'm finally able to make out his face. A thick bar of ink crosses the length of his forehead and down the hollows of his cheeks. Thinner ribbons pull off of it and end along his hairline and in the soft spots under his eyes. The skin underneath the tattoo is unblemished and youthful. Even in the dim light of the room, his freckles stand out starkly against his pale skin. His boyish face isn't at all how I pictured him from his voice. Long copper hair is kept back from his face in a handful of thin braids down to his shoulders. Which come out in two broad strokes that hold up the tightly sewn muscle of his arms—the body of a hunter.

"You-you're Dalish?" The question comes out more like a statement.

"Aye. Knowing you were saved by a Dalish healer, does it offend your city-sensibilities?" He smiles down at me despite the hard edge to his tone.

"I didn't need help. I don't want your help." Even to my ears, I sound desperate to believe the words. I immediately want to take them back as a shadow falls over Valan's face. 

"I see." Quick as a whip, he pulls the furs from me and moves to grip one of my hands. Pressed between his ribs and arm, he holds me in an iron-clad grip. My hand shoots out, flattening on his back, hoping to find some semblance of magic to push him away. The angle pulls at my bandaged side uncomfortably. At the feeling of cold metal at my fingers, I stop struggling.

"What are you doing?" My voice is hazy to my ears. The knife he presses into my skin isn't hard enough to draw blood but enough to make me freeze. 

"You said you didn't need our help. I'm taking back all the fingers and toes our healer saved from frostbite." He makes a move to saw at them. Horror bleeds the color from my face at the thought. I can't help the tears, but I don't say anything else. I just hope he won't cut all of them off. Would I still be able to cast spells without some or all of my fingers? 

When I don't feel any pain, I peek out from my scrunched eyes. Valan watches me over his shoulder with a look of confusion and disgust. The knife is still in his hand, his hold unwavering, but it's no longer pressed to my forefinger. With a start, he drops my arm and backs away from me, holstering his weapon. 

"I wasn't actually going to cut them. You were supposed to say sorry, not just accept it like that." His brow furrows, and he looks over at me, still on the bed. The rush of adrenaline quiets the pain enough for me to sit up. "You weren't out there ~trying~ to die, were you?" My mouth pops open.

"Why would you think that?" I lean my back against the wall.

"The suspicious lack of effort." He raises an eyebrow as if it was apparent. Noticing the dying fire, he walks over and stokes it, sitting down in front of it.

"I put plenty of effort into my survival." I snap. My legs and hips crack loudly as I adjust my position. My face crumples as I hold in my moaning. "I...need to get going. Staying here is wasting time."

"Yeah. You were making great 'time' when Ellan and I found you." I see him roll his blue eyes from the corner of my vision. "What were you doing out there anyway?"

"I-," A weak lie about getting lost crosses my mind, but I realize I could ~actually~ use his help. "I'm trying to get back to my clan. Their Dalish like you." 

"Dalish? You don't look Dalish or sound like one, to be honest-and, that didn't exactly answer my question." I force my leg over the side of the bed and attempt to stand. My clothes have been swapped out for loosely fitting furs and cotton pants. It's a nice change from the thin, damp clothes from Skyhold. Valan stands from his relaxed position by the fire, though he doesn't move closer. 

"I guess I got a bit lost on the way." He gives me an incredulous look at my weak smile. 

I make my way over to the fire pit slowly. When I'm in reach, Valan helps me down to the aged wood bench beside him. The fire feels lovely at the tips of my toes—all ten of them.

"Uh, thanks for saving all of my toes, too." I feel awkward thanking him after just yelling at him that I didn't need help. Yet, it seems like the right thing to do after all they did save my life. 

"Thank Athlan. He nearly killed himself trying to save everything." 

"I'll make sure to do that." I glance around, taking in the room. It's small, one wall seemingly carved from stone. The other three walls may have once been built with care- now spotty with missing planks and ingrown vegetation. There are two doors, one behind the bed I was laying in and the other leading outside.   
The bed, if it could be called that, turns out to just be a few folded pelts. The moon shines directly through the dilapidated roof onto the dirt floor. 

"So this clan of yours," Valan draws my attention back. He reminds me of Fenris, the way he's able to "relax" while still keeping a vigilant air to his person. "Do you remember where you got separated from them? Maybe where they were headed?"

I shake my head, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. I realize it would be an Andraste level miracle for me to remember a clan I last saw more than a dozen years ago. But I can't help the reaction.

"What's the name? Maybe my Keeper will know something. We aren't in contact with many clans here in the Dales, but it's worth a shot." His mouth falls into a warm smile as he waits for my response. 

"Oh...um." Shit. "No need. I actually do remember where they were going." My only clue is the faint memory of wildflowers. I know the further I get away from this dreaded cold, the better my chances are. Then I'll have to hope that my clan stayed put for all these years. 

Yeah. Fat chance, that. 

"Oh, well, in that case, then I guess the best help would be a map." He slaps his hands down on his knees and gets up with a huff. "By the way, if you don't mind me asking, where's your Vallaslin? I admit I've not seen many Dalish from other clans, though the ones I have- Elves younger than you have their ink already."

"I got separated, remember? I'll get it when I find them again." I wiggle my toes. I never thought I'd love the feeling of warm blood pumping through my veins again. However, as much as I wish I could sit and relax, my only thoughts are of the impending Inquisition. Solas is sure to have told the Inquisitor by now of the dangerous magic I possess. 

"Right." Valan gives me an unreadable look, going to stand by the door leading outside and waits for me. He pauses.

"Just out of curiosity, how ~long~ have you been away from your clan?" His tone is light as he faces away from me. I don't think much of it until he turns my way. Suspicion flashing in his bright eyes.

"How long has it been?" I repeat as if I hadn't heard him the first time. I make a show of pretending to think it over in my head- anything to buy me time. "I-I think I lost track of the days out in the wilderness. I can't seem to recall." 

I attempt to laugh it off. The sound getting stuck in my throat at the sudden darkness that overtakes Valan.

"You're a horrible liar and a devious person to try and trick us." The sound of a lock clicking has the hair on the back of my neck raised. His hand goes to the sheath at his hip, "What are you some sort of half-assed spy? A distraction for an ambush?" He advances towards me, the blood in my ears growing so loud I can barely hear him over the ringing. His sudden change in mood has my mind racing trying to think over what I said or did. How did he see through my lie so quickly?

"No! No! I really am Dalish, I promise. You don't have to give me anything! " I drag my feet backward in the dirt, coming to a stop when my back hits one of the fatigued walls. "I'll leave. Please, let me leave."

"No. I want the truth. Now." Valan stops in front of the fire, his bulky form only half-lit. "You have ten seconds before I undo all of Athlan's hard work."

"I am Dalish, and I am looking for my clan. I wasn't lying about that." I hold out my hands, similar to the way he did to me. Though mine are more to keep him away than to appear non-threatening. His eyebrow ticks from impatience at my pause. "It's just that my clan...I haven't seen them in fifteen years."

"So what, they kicked you out? Slaughtered?" When I hesitate, he takes another menacing step closer. I have to shake my head to clear the invasive memories of another small room. The thoughts seem to only be spurred further when Valan yells at me to continue.

"I don't know! I was in Tevinter. I don't know what happened to them." As useless as a spent lighter, I try igniting my magic. Unsurprisingly, nothing answers my call. 

"Tevinter? You expect me to believe that? Even without tattoos, an Elf like you couldn't just up and leave that place."

"I wasn't planning on leaving. The Inquisition raided my Master's castle. They brought me back to Skyhold."

"Uh-huh, so why were you half-dead in the Frostbacks?" The look on his face tells me he doesn't believe a word I'm saying. 

"They wouldn't let me leave. I decided on my own that it was time to leave." Even now, as I try to tell the truth, some self-preserving part of me twists my words. At least it isn't too far from the truth.

"I'm sure those Shems aren't that desperate for more mouths to feed. What makes you so special that they would bar you from leaving?" 

"At the time, I wanted to go back to Master Alexius. I don't anymore. I want to go back to the clan I was stolen from." I push steel into my words to make them more believable. If anyone were to comprehend my need to leave, it would be another Dalish Elf, right? I twist my lip between my teeth. "I can be gone in seconds if you just let me. Please."

Valan releases a considerable breath, looking me up and down a few times. He must come to a resolution with himself because he walks over to the door. Without a word, he unlocks it and steps out. I waste no time shambling as best I can with my swore body to the doorway.

"Thank you. Thank you." I offer as I walk past him, worried he'll change his mind if I don't show appreciation enough. 

"Be quiet, and listen to me." I snap my mouth shut. "I have no idea if you're still lying to me or not. But you staying here sounds like more trouble than I willing to share." He lifts his hand and points out of camp. "If you keep heading west, you've a better chance at finding more Dalish clans. One's bound to know something." 

"I...will also probably regret this, but you are going to get nowhere walking like you are. The horse to the side of my house, the one with grey spots, you can take her. She knows her way back here from Hawen's camp in the Exalted Plains. I suggest you ride out to his caravan." Valan crosses his arms and frowns at me. "Just don't get her killed, whatever you do. She's a dear friend to me."

"Of course. Of course." I nod in adamant agreement, merely excited at the thought of getting away from here. "At Hawen's camp, I'll send her back."

"Just follow the Imperial Highway. Don't ride on it, though. Bandits will sooner snatch you up then ask for gold." And with that, he closes his door—the lock clicks. 

"Bandits?" I wonder aloud, making my way to the small stables behind the house. Whatever those were.

*****   
We follow her tracks as best we can, with the constant winds erasing everything. Despite my preference to set off immediately, the Inquisitor squashed that idea. Though the War Room meeting was long and tedious, nothing remotely close to the truth was discovered. The easiest answer I could give as to the severe shift in time was to offer up a weak "usual Corypheus mischief." As far as the rest of the Inquisition knows, my little apprentice was just as freaked out at the incident as the rest of Skyhold. I asked for an exemption from missions for the next few days while I buckle down and "teach" Emerald. Cole, with a mere metaphorical wave of his hand, was forgotten. 

The sun was just rising when I was finally able to sneak away. By now, her trail would be covered by a few inches of snow. Still, she couldn't have gotten far.

"I realize I may not be the best at conversation or, Andraste preserve us, comforting. But when we do find her, why don't I do the talking?" Fenris' dry voice sends another nail into my head. Emerald's disappearance was impossible to hide from him. I should have known he would insist on coming with us.

"When we find her, I doubt there's going to be much discussion." I bite back. Our pace is far too slow for my liking. My hands itch to swat the reigns down and leave these two behind. Though I have a feeling that Fenris is correct. In her mind, that Elf is the only one unspoiled from my failed plans to build her mental barrier back up.

"Yes. Let's beat down every door we come across and drag her back to Skyhold, kicking and screaming. That's sure to warm her up to you, robes." Fenris' mount comes up to walk along-side mine. "You mages think you can rely on magic forever. How long did your barrier last? Two weeks? How long do you think you can keep this going, Solas?" He spits out my name like a curse.

"As long as I have to." I don't give him the satisfaction of reacting.

"What do you care if she remembers anyway? I didn't need any magical remedy to cope with my past." I shoot him a nasty look. His lack of understanding frustrates me to no end. This trip is already wearing on me, and we haven't even left the wards of Skyhold.

"You saw what she did back there. Power like that, with a mind like hers, it's bound to end badly anyway other way." My numb fingers pinch the bridge of my nose in annoyance. "Now be quiet. This search is stressful enough without you nipping at my heels about this nonsense like a lapdog."

"You're lucky the Inquisitor needs you. I'd 'lose' you to a great bear out here as fast as I could." Fire laces his voice, but Fenris otherwise doesn't react. 

"A bear was following Emeralds along this path." Cole quietly adds behind us. 

"What?" My head whips around to face the spirit. 

"He was hungry. Then he was dead." Cole watches something in the distance with rapt attention. "Two Elves wrapped him up nice and tight when he fell to their arrows. 'Enough to feed the clan for days,' One said. The bear thought the same thing when he caught Emeralds' scent. He didn't reach her in time."

"A clan-Dalish?" Fenris catches my eyes with a look of restrained excitement. "What are the odds we'd find her there."

"I wouldn't bet against it," I say— following Cole's gaze to a few small buildings, propagated by large boulders of the mountain blight the base of the ridge. Unless you were looking for them, they blend perfectly with the hillside. It's our best shot at finding her quickly.

The group is blessedly silent as we head down with renewed vigor towards our mark. Still, it takes thirty minutes for us to make it to the mouth of the camp- another ten to persuade the guards to let us in. Their Keeper is hesitant to speak with us, but at the sight of both Fenris and me, she relaxes.

"Aneth ara. Please excuse my surprise. We do not get many outsiders." The stoic tone of voice matches her matronly appearance. For an Elf, she's tall. Her eyes can meet both of ours head-on. 

"We are only passing through. Unfortunately, one of our companions got separated from us. Have any of your clan seen an Elven woman—red hair, green eyes, skittish?"

"About this tall," Fenris flattens his hand and brings it a little lower than his shoulders. 

"I'm afraid you two are the first visitors we've had for months. No one matching your description outside this clan has come across us." Neither Fenris nor I make a reaction to her lack of awareness of Cole. He's more likely to get more information through eavesdropping than we are just speaking directly.

"What about your scouts? They must have seen something." My temper is quickly drawing to a conclusion with the Keeper when something catches my eye. 

A man, obviously a hunter, exits one of the many huts in front of me. Nothing notable stands out about him except for the way he watches us. Unlike the rest of the clan, who stare with curiosity, his eyes are hauntingly knowing. At my attention, he quickly turns away. The bow slung across his chest tells me he's off for the daily hunt- probably not expected for a few hours, if not the rest of the day.  
I face the Keeper, painting a neutral expression over my thinly veiled ire. I cut off her weak excuse disavowing me from harassing any of her clan, "Of course. We'll be on our way then." 

Without waiting for her to dismiss us, I take off for the camp exit. Cole reclines on the neck of his mount, watching the same hunter I was with a strange expression. The Elf makes to climb up the mountain.

"He has the same arrows I saw in that bear." That is all he has to say to confirm my suspicions. I pull myself up and throw my horse into a sprint after him. However, Fenris reaches him first, cutting off his ascent with the body of his mount.

"Hey! Watch it!" The man narrowly dodges a hoof before he can step back. 

"You wouldn't have seen a woman around here lately? Red-haired, green eyes?" Fenris leans down from his mount to interrogate him.

"As I'm sure my Keeper has said. We don't get many travelers around here." The muscles in his neck twitch nervously. The attempt to lie is the final straw as I give in to my anger. In a snap of my fingers, thick ice encapsulates the hunter's feet, emprisoning him to the cliff's craggy stone. The ice is slow to crawl up his legs, crystalizing painfully along his skin, ripping through his armor like paper. His cries fall on deaf ears.

"Ask him again." My voice, deaded in the heat of my fury, commands Fenris.

Before Fenris can open his mouth, the hunter spills. 

"She said she was searching for her clan! I don't know anything more than that, I promise!" Lines of dirt wash away from his snot and tears. Pathetic, I think to myself.

"What direction." With a lurch of my fingers, I send the man through the air, the ice at his feet snapping off like granite. Violently I slam him onto his back, so he lays dangerously close to the stamping hooves of my horse. 

"West!" He screams as black clefts swing by his head. As much as his cooperation appeases me, his loose tongue is bound to be a problem later. As much as it irks me to think if we fail to bring her back before the Inquisitor finds out. If they make the same connections we do, this hunter will lead them straight to her. Then there's still the threat of Alexius. I see only one solution to this. 

Cole must sense the decision in my mind. Ever so slightly, he shakes his head. The spirit is an amalgamation of compassion. I shouldn't be surprised at his disapproval of this man's death. No matter. There are other ways to assure this his silence.

"Tell me, hunter, are you literate?" I send out a wave of magic, pushing him a few feet away from my horse.

"Ah...n-no." It comes out more of a question than a statement. He wipes fiercely at his face, smudging the dirt and tears away. He blinks huge blue eyes up at me, hanging deliciously on to every word I say.

"Very good." I send a coil of force through him, expertly severing only his tongue at the seam in his mouth. Still, on his back, he flounders, choking on the loose flap of skin now folding down his throat. His body heaves itself on to his side, a syrupy mix of saliva and blood carpeting the rocks. His lips have to maneuver his tongue out themselves in a sputtering display that makes Cole, and even Fenris, wince.   
The fear in his eyes breathes new life into me— dolling punishment in the most satisfying way. This is what will become of anyone bold enough to aid her escape from me. I already suffer one failure with Corypheus; I won't let a fledgling mage out of my grasp.   
Though the thrill of the chase does spark something deeper in me that's been dormant for a few thousand years.

"Robes?" Fenris sticks a pin in my daydreaming. Cole watches me with a ghastly expression. I realize I've been silent for a few minutes now. Blinking a few times, I bring myself back to reality. The hunter remains splayed on the ground, propped up on his elbows. Though his eyes are still wide, waiting for what I say next. As much as I might want to act out my musings and cut his tongue out, the act would only draw more attention.

"Ah, yes." I have to clear my throat. "Cole," I wave a hand dismissing the Elf to Cole.   
The spirit appears in front of the hunter, shaken but unharmed, and grabs his face. He says a few whispered words before he cleans the man's mind of his encounter with Emerald. The process takes seconds.

"Was he the only one to know about her?" I ask Cole when he's done. He shakes his head.

"There's another. A healer." Our eyes clash, an unspoken judgment lighting his. Without another word, he disappears, presumably to find this healer and wipe their mind as well. Fenris grabs the reigns to Cole's mount and steps around the dazed hunter towards me. 

"A healer? You don't think she had a run-in with bandits, do you?" Fenris confidently handles both horses with two hands.

"Cole will tell us when he gets back." I dig my heels into my horse's side. "We've no time for idle theories as to what's happened. We have another lead."

"Tel'athim," Fenris hisses under breath but follows.


	11. Chapter 11

The chill in my hands and feet remains stagnant despite the warm touches of the sun. I fear flexing my fingers might just break them off entirely. Luckily, Valan's horse either doesn't feel the same cold I do, or she's merely used to the fridged winds. I have to keep a hold on her braided mane of hair to balance on top. The first few hours of the constant balancing act helped to keep me awake. Though, now, as my adrenaline wears off, I'm back to trying to stop my eyes from staying closed. 

My luck must be turning for the better. My magic has returned at half-mast. While I wish I was at full power, I'll take what I can get. Our pace is slow but steady. Well, about as "steady" as one horse could be walking along the outskirts of the Imperial Highway. Every sound, no matter how small, has me glancing over my shoulder. I keep expecting to see Solas walk out from behind the trees I pass by. Or Cole to materialize in front of me in the strange way he does. 

An animal cries off in the distance, and I jump. The lack of saddle has me holding on for dear life by my thighs—the horse jitters and speeds up, spooked by my sudden movement. My heart skitters against my ribs until finally, the horse calms down, and I can right myself again. 

"Maybe I should just walk the rest of the way," I mutter to myself. Glancing at the ground, I note the long way down -undoubtedly painful if I were to fall. But the thought of trudging through the mud again has my feet and back aching.

The snowdrifts taper off as I ride away from the mountains. The cold lingers, though. I've started noticing odd swaths of jagged rock glowing a violent flaming red against the dull mud of the changing landscape. Some grow taller than my head as I pass them on horse. My tired eyes are mesmerized by the iridescent colors emanating off of the crystalline shapes. Angelic voices sing eerily to me from them as if a songbird were trapped in it as if it were a geometric prison. It's only my mount's determination to keep moving forward that keeps me from standing still and listen. The hymns are soft and lowly to my ears, but I notice them getting louder ever so slightly. I hold a hesitant hand out as we pass by an incredibly close one. The surface of it heats the pads of my fingers as if it is alive. Strangely my magic reacts to it, seemingly strengthen by its proximity. 

We haven't stopped walking since I was rushed out of that Dalish camp. Something about not knowing where I am or how far I have to go makes me more impatient to get there. How could a single road go on for so long? I hope I didn't accidentally miss the camp Valan was talking about. Could I have actually fallen asleep and walked right by them? How would I even know if I am lost? 

My inner downward spiral is interrupted by another shrill whine. However, this one didn't sound like the same animal, nor was it as far away as the first. My horse swivels an ear in the direction but otherwise doesn't react. I watch further into the dense, mud-lined forest for any movement. When I find none, I shake off the feeling of dread as mere anxiety. I haven't seen another living soul since I left Valan at the camp. He warned me of bandits on the Highway. I assume that's some kind of carnivorous animal based on Valan's foreboding look. At least, I hope they're animals.

We pass what seems like another hundred trees when another sound makes the horse pause. It definitely isn't an animal this time. A high keening whistle bounces off the rocky terrain. It stops short twice before falling silent once more. 

"Could that have been a bird?" I lean down closer to the horse's mane. She neither confirms nor denies it, unsurprisingly. Instead, the horse tracks a noise with her ears- stamping her hooves nervously. The whites of her eyes stand out as her ears suddenly pin back towards me. Her hind legs swing to the side as she watches an invisible threat with a stiff neck. Shadows bristle along the edges of the white pines. 

Globules of mud explode beneath us as the horse rears back from an advancing figure. The shape breaks off from the molted shade of a tree to stand off to the side of us, the glint of a notched arrow drawing my attention. My hands clamber for a steady grip- my fingers ripping out blonde strands of her mane as I fall from Valan's mount. Her hooves slam down next to my head, narrowly missing me. A scream lodges in my throat. I roll out from under her as another hoove comes down—my magic flaring to life at my fingertips is my only comfort right now. 

In a flurry of movement, the grey-speckled mount bucks erratically before shooting back down the path we came from. Another shadow drips down from the tree line behind me. My head snaps back to the first figure, a lean man with a face covered in pockmarks. He keeps the heavy bow trained intently on me but makes no move to release it. The other figure walks into sight, a smug-looking woman manipulating a slender dagger along her knuckles—both sport blunt ears of humans.

"It's an Elf." The woman states haughtily. She appraises me with a disconcerting smile. "Some noble send you to scout ahead? A big caravan?"

When I don't respond, a nasty snarl cracks across her face. The leather handle of her knife creaks in her palm as she squeezes it, her other hand going to the rapier situated tightly at her side. Dirty brown coils slip out from their tuck position in her silk bandana from her movement. Crudely inked images slink up the neck of her billowing, satiny outfit. The black stains contradict the pale, ruddy color of her skin. Their thick accents aren't Teviner-esque. From my time at Skyhold, they sound more Ferelden. Could these two be sent by the Inquisition? They should have noted my absence by now if that spell ever wore off. I find it hard to believe Alexius would never hire non-mages like these to find me.

"Who are you?" The words are drowned out by another shrieking whistle. I jump, startled by its nearness. The woman draws two fingers from her lips, chuckling at my reaction. After a tense second, a similar signal can be heard further in.

"Be quiet." The man speaks in a low, neutral voice, drawing me back. He never takes his eyes off of me, even when the woman steps away from him. The greasy curls alighting her head come to a bouncing stop when she reaches me.

"Stand up, sweets." She commands. When I do, skeletal hands dart out to feel around the furs that cover my chest and legs. She doesn't seem fazed at all when she palms my breasts. Heat fills my face as she steps back, apparently done with her search. At my blushing, she winks.

"No weapons. You're either a shitty scout or the dumbest knife-ear alive." She turns to face the man, "How about it, Cass? I think we just struck gold here. I wish that horse hadn't ran off so fast. Probably gotten a better deal selling both of 'em." She gives a short laugh and nudges her partner with her elbow. I hope that meant she was joking. When he doesn't react, she rolls her eyes and turns back to me. The man, Cass, considers me with a stone face. He still doesn't lower his hands. He doesn't seem to hear anything his friend is saying. "What's a city Elf doing all the way out here dressed like that?"

"I-," I'm cut off when the man speaks.

"Selling an Elf this far South is risky. Just take what it's wearing and run your knife through it. We don't know if there are more comin'." His lips crack open, yellowed eyes skating over to the woman for a moment. There's a brief exchange of unspoken communication before she speaks aloud again. 

"Everette knows an arms dealer over in Jader that'll pay a good price for one." The woman lunges for me faster than I thought possible. Nevertheless, I'm faster. I dodge her advances quickly enough, backing up until I'm stopped by a boulder. She blinks in surprise, giving a short laugh. 

"Agile. You know, I hear they're worth more if it knows how to read too." She side-steps to block me from escaping her advancing body. At my expression, she chuckles. "Tell me, dollface, you know how to read?"

She doesn't give me time to answer before she's lashing out at me. My years avoiding demon attacks in Tevinter serve me well. I can tell she doesn't mean o cause me serious harm by her restrained strikes. Sending my leg out, I'm able to put some space between us. Another flash and a burning sensation dragging across my collar bone tell me she's pulled another knife. If only I could get a hold of one of those. 

"Come on now, girlie. Don't make me cut off something important" She sashays her hip suggestively. Clucking her tongue in annoyance, she faces me with a vicious smile, "I'm sure the group back at camp will appreciate the distraction until we get to Everette's man in Jader." She licks her lips at the word distraction.

"Just keep an eye on it. I don't want to wake up one day with half our shit missin'." Cass spits out something red and gummy to the muddy ground, emphasizing his apparent disgust with me. The globule lands at my feet, its uniquely and strangely robust smell of iron and vinegar reaches my nose. I definitely didn't want to go anywhere with ~him~. He must be thinking the same thing I am because he continues. "I'd just kill it now. Not worth the risk, Sorcha."

"It ain't up to you, piss-veins!" The woman, Sorcha, snaps in a stunning display of vitriolic anger. "Everette has the final say. He'd want to see her first before anything else."

The cut at the bottom of my neck isn't deep. The warm blood actually feels good to my cold body. My toes grow red in the cold mud as I shift uncomfortably in place. Valan gave me leathers to wrap around the arches of my feet but nothing else. It's better than being barefoot, but just barely. At the sound of me moving, Sorcha whips her head back to me, a wide-eyed grin stretched across her face. 

"Hold out your hands, doll. Waiting out here is duller than a butter knife." She maneuvers a foot between my legs. We're about the same size, so she must see in my eyes the moment I remember I can use magic. All my thoughts back to Alexius and his castle made me forget I don't have to hide my abilities anymore. The lines of the rogues face harden. She jerks cordage of fraying rope from her hip and zeros in on my wrists when I don't move. 

I steel my spine and take a tentative dip into my magic reserves. Could I take on two armed Fereldens at the same time? I glance between the two; Cass has relaxed his stance slightly, his eyes glaring daggers at the younger woman. Any spell would be helpful. Knowing what I am about to cast would be a miracle. 

What would Solas recommend I do? Probably a basic defensive spell. When I have greater space between us, I can throw around some fire without harming myself as well. 

The muddy puddles will alert them of all movement. If I force them away while I push myself, I could put a considerable distance between us. But the way I'm angled, I'll just be throwing myself back down the path I came from opposite the direction I need to go. I could try a more subtle escape. Cole can make himself invisible, and he makes it look easy. I close my eyes and imagine myself disappearing like Cole does. It's a shot in the dark. I never did ask how he could do that. 

My magic wastes no time in meeting my call for it. It rushes around me in an internal cyclone of static. I have to focus on not exerting any of the energy twitching in my fingers prematurely. The woman in front of me wraps the rope around my wrists roughly. Her cracked ruby lips are pulled into a coy smile as she gazes up from her work at me. I give her a blank face in my concentration. 

My magic aches to be used, rolling over itself in my chest. I apply just the slightest effort into shaping it, throwing all my thoughts towards manifesting myself away from the mages. It takes more effort to hold back my magic and focus on it than expected. My limbs shake under the invisible pressure of it.

"Poor thing's shiverin', Cass-y. Let's get back to camp and get you warmed up," The woman pulls her lips into an exaggerated pout that holds no warmth. Despite his resistance, it looks like the man's finally given in. At the sight of my tied wrists, he lowers his bow.

His chapped lips open to speak. But I never got to hear what he said as the sensation of flight overwhelms me. It's like I was being shot through a canon. I'm driven straight through the woman. The air where she stands feels displaced and hot as I, like a ghost, phase through her. A vortex of wind slaps across my body as I'm sent barreling through a narrow tunnel of air, parting silt and wayward branches. The further I get, the heavier I feel again. Branches stab at me as I pass when, just a second ago, they couldn't touch me—one splitting the skin under my eye. Yet I have no time to react before the windstorm begins to recede—streams of prismatic light speed ahead of me, seemingly the force pushing me forward. The landscape muddies like river water from the visible magic in the air. I can hardly make out anything until the wind dissipates completely. As quick as a blink- as sudden, as the magic began, it stops. 

When I'm finally able to focus my eyes again, the two Fereldens are nowhere in sight. I feel my muscles relax as the immediate threats are gone- then I glance back. Broken branches and disturbed sludge has created a prominent trail straight to me. I'd been aiming for a teleportation spell, but it looks like I literally just threw myself. 

Blood from the cut under my eye drips into my mouth. The warm metallic fluid is a hesitantly welcome reprieve to my dry mouth. My tongue breaches the seal of my lips to catch the next drop. The cut stings in the dry air. Pain is nothing I can't handle and actually helps to clear my mind. 

A shout rises from over my shoulder, making them stiffen. I can hear a scuffle off in the distance, too close for my comfort but far enough to give me a chance to outrun them. My mind reaches for that same spell, hoping I can just feel it out the same way I did before. I mentally prod at my energy. 

A resounding 'snap' in my mind has my face flushing with blood- a faint iron taste touching the back of my tongue. Magic covers my vision, enflaming my skin in a painful, fiery grip. My knees weaken, and the sensation of falling to the ground is quickly overcome with the same gale of cold air to my face. The furs wrapped around my legs whip back to subject my bare knees to the biting edges of ice and rock. I'm sent once more through branches as more distance is drawn out between us.

Fortunately, I come to a stop again before being sent headlong into a massive shard of red rock. Its song rings in my ears, inflating the strength of my magic for the brief time I'm inches from it. 

Getting up is much easier now that I've allowed my magic to freely engulf my body. I don't even want to think about trying to control it again. It feels almost as if I could take on the whole world now. I'm invincible, albeit with a bloody face and the bound wrists, unstoppable nonetheless. A laugh breaks the grimace my mouth is set in. It's a breathless, tired crow of noise that surprises me. 

"Stupid bitch mage, Cass. We'll be set for life after selling this one!" The woman's voice penetrates the brush that surrounds me. She shouts out a few more commands before quieting off to the left of me, near the Highway. I can just make out the whispers of Cass' footfalls coming around my opposite side. They were trying to herd me. 

Another laugh shakes my frame, still kneeling in the watery clay. A steady thrumming vibrates through my head as I stand only using my legs. My muscles tick painfully from the movement. Their tautness almost unbelievable in the chilled air. In a flash, a meager thought and a flick of my legs, I'm hurled further into the forest. A third voice joins in then. 

"Are you using magic?" I don't immediately place the familiar tone. I simply answer.

"Yes." It's a whisper. It's barely audible to me. But I said it. I am using magic. To escape. The thought is foreign to me. Me! Purposefully using magic! A smile tugs at the corners of my lips.

"Lying whore." Alexius growls in my ear. His breath tickles the shell of my ear. 

No, no. I shake my head. That was the wind.

Trees rush by my head. The wintry stone underfoot is no longer on my mind with the warmth of magic so close to my skin's surface. I can remember from my time at Skyhold without those horrible memories feeling something like this. The fear of being chased is briefly overcome with the surprising exhilaration of wielding my magic as it is meant to be. 

The harder I push myself- spending handfuls of magic I didn't know I possessed all at once- the greedier I become to expend more of it. Fiery tingles eat at the nerves of my chest and limbs- propelling themselves in all directions inside me. Electric blue fire snaps out from my body to shoot ahead of me—the flames licking at branches in my way, which catch immediately. It takes a moment to realize the fire has eaten away the old rope at my hands too. The small bursts of fire are thankfully blown out as soon as I pass by them. The spells are effortless, albeit wholly uncontrollable. If my path wasn't noticeable before, it definitely is now.

"You vile magic bitch! The Templars should have killed every last one of you! Cunts like you murdered the Divine!"  
The woman continues to shout horrifying things, breaking off her words with a chaotic laugh. Though my mind is so overwhelmed, I can't make sense of anything she's saying. I hear her bark out something sharp behind me. It doesn't sound like she's getting any closer. My chest constricts and pushes my magic out harsher than before. If I were paying closer attention, I would have noticed the forest around me getting rapidly darker. As it is, my mind is fixed on running. 

Finally, a few more yards further, I detect the subtle changes. I am pretty sure the two Fereldens stopped following me a while ago. Possibly when the trees started closing in. The thought of going deeper in is as appealing to me as going with those two back to their camp. Except when I go to reign my magic in, my grip on it isn't firm enough. 

Without my permission, I'm sent through the same spell once more. Panic is quick to set in when once I understand my lack of control. My movements are uncertain. I try to lean to one side in an attempt to dodge around the unknown entity just a few paces from me now. I aim for a small space between two trees. The forest has consistently gotten denser the deeper I run. The trees become close-knit. The needles of the pines overhead blot out the foggy light of the sun. The glowing red stones are also getting sparse- despite my rambling pleads for their strange light now. 

The threatening encroachment of darkness is pushed to the back of my mind when something flashes below me. A glittering sapphire rune emboldens on the mud underfoot, alighting beneath the shadow of my foot in a sinister wink. There's a powdery explosion then frost-covered fingers trail up my body, freezing it in place on their way up. The inferno of magic inside me battles with wild ferocity against the chilly onslaught. Despite this, thick cages of ice still encircle my legs, short-stopping my lower body from moving further. Thankfully the ice struggles to remain solid the higher up it spans. 

My thoughts are an incoherent mess- essentially just a jumble of raw emotions and feverish adrenaline clashing together. Blistering tendrils of unfettered magic whip out and curl in what I interpret as pain when they touch the crystalline frost. The rapidness of my breath and the stiff, wideness of my eyes reminds me of how Valan's horse looked a few minutes ago. Was that only a few minutes ago?

Neither of the two from before are anywhere to be seen. Though, much as I struggle, I can't crane my neck around all the way to check if they are behind me. The surrounding forest is eerily silent now that I'm to listening to it. Why didn't they follow me? They sure acted like they didn't want me to slip away. And if they stay back there, who cast this rune?

My brows furrow in my effort to break my legs free. As abundant as it is right now, my magic is almost impossible for me to wield accurately. The bulk of it seems to be enough to buffer the ice from spreading. But I can't get rid of it all without focusing an attack. The light giddy feeling of invincibility is gone- replaced with heavily dreaded fear. My pupils rapidly dash from one corner of my eye to the other for any sign of movement. The darkness created by the trees' overhang is impossibly thick. I can hardly see passed the brush in front of me. If I hadn't known better, I'd think night had fallen already. 

What I can make out, though, are two cobalt blue eyes raking through the black of the forest towards me at surprising speed. Sending a shock of panic through me, I renew my efforts to break free. A deep, bellowing voice bounces off the trees around me, eliciting a yelp from me. 

"Stay away!" His voice drags painfully past his throat from disuse. The set of eyes get closer until the figure of a man steps into the low light of the enchanted ice. The man's face looks carved in sharp relief to his skull. His blond hair, more golden than Cole's, is pulled back in a messy ponytail. Like Fenris' white scars, this man's face is highlighted by glowing blue streams that current out of his eyes. I can only imagine he's a mage, but I've never seen a mage look like that before. As if to confirm, the man sends a bolt of arcing electricity inches away from my head.

In all of my time in Tevinter -all of the experiments I've witnessed or been a part of- this is new to me. Is that what Valan warned me about? Is that a bandit? My mind goes back to what this bandit-mage shouted at me.

Almost instinctually, my arms rise to release the torrent of unstable magic in defense. The man, or whatever he is, brings up a wooden staff I hadn't noticed before. In his free hand, the same azure light gleams brighter than any sword could- scares me more than any blade could. 

Instead of sending out fire or ice, my chest expels a familiar green haze. Using the tips of my pointed fingers, the contour of magic directs itself through them like a channel directly at the bandit-mage. The focused energy splits through the air between us, hitting him square in the face. 

The moment my magic touches him, my vision goes blank. Not dark. Blank. It felt as if the world stuttered, then shuttered to life again. When I'm able to see again, I'm no longer in the cold forest. 

Rich emerald hues overtake my view before I can discern any shape. My legs are no longer frozen to the ground. They shake from exertion in a jade-colored slime that now rides up to my thighs. 

Lighter shades of green rush to and fro, hovering around me. I have to blink multiple times to make out the shadow of spirits. Hundreds of them. As if I'd opened another Rift from Alexius' courtyard and stepped inside of it. In stark contrast to the monotone environment, the threatening man from before stands a few feet from me. He glances around in equal disbelief.

At last, his eyes fall back to me. A dark expression crosses his lit face. It looks like he's about to speak when the green aura emanates once more. I've no time to fully comprehend where we suddenly find ourselves before that awful wrenching sensation is back. With an acute 'POP,' my vision goes blank again. It's only a second later that the bitter embrace of Thedas cold stone is at my knees and palms. I blink to look at the dirt I'm faced with, unusually thankful for it.

I've only a moment to appreciate the familiar ground when the end a staff is brought to the side of my face- a wicked blade tied to the bottom of it.

"What was that? Filthy blood magic?" His voice reverberates, sounding somehow more threatening than the blade. 

"I-I don't know what that was." I spit out. It's a half-truth. How was I suppose to explain that I sent us through the Fade when I don't know how I did it. If that even was the Fade. 

The blade presses into my cheek, forcing me to look up at the voice. The startling hollows of his cheeks are even more prominent from this angle as the light in his eyes slowly fades. With it, his shoulders begin to relax, and his face takes on an aged weariness. 

"Ignorance will get you nowhere. I suggest you just tell me everything now so we can avoid the amount of time torturing it out of you." He narrows his eyes at me; they're now a warm clay brown rather than sterile blue. "Are you a blood mage? Are you fleeing the Circle? How did you find this place?"

"No." I ignore his last two questions for lack of understanding what he means. Blood magic, on the other hand, is nothing unusual over in Tevinter. My voice trips over itself, and I have to clear my throat. My magic is still present. I would say it's a bit stunned from whatever just happened. I guess such a large expelling of energy is enough to get it to heel. It flows just below my skin, ready to be used again. "Are you a bandit?" 

"I could ask you the same question. I don't get many visitors. Usually, don't make it this far in." His presence isn't nearly as threatening anymore. I bring my wrist up to swipe at the drying blood on my upper lip. His eyes follow the movement smoothly- an odd intensity flaring in them. Despite his coldness towards me, I find myself relaxing. He's less likely to be from Alexius if he's afraid of Blood magic.

We're still in the abnormally dark forest, though in a completely different spot than we were before. One of those glowing red crystals sits a few feet off to the side of us. A tangle of trees stretches out to the far side of the small clearing we're in. The branches bend in a bizarre bastardization of an archway that leads deeper into the forest. 

"I've only been there once, but I know the Fade when I see it." He stabs the staff into the frozen ground next to me, crouching to sit eye level with me. A thumb hovers over the cut under my eye. It's since stopped bleeding, and it's only now that I focus on it that it throbs. 

Without touching my cheek, he pulls his hand away to reach for my mine. I have to sit back on my heels to let him scrutinize my palms and wrists. His hold is surprisingly gentle. The calloused skin of his fingers whispers across the shallow scrapes on my hand. I have to steel my spine to stop the shiver that runs down it. His vocal denouncement of Blood magic shouldn't matter so much to me- he's still a stranger.

"Hmph." After his quick appraisal of my hands, he withdraws. When he makes a move to drop my wrists, I snatch them away to hold against my chest. He doesn't react, except for the tightening at the corner of his eyes. "Tell me now- are you a Circle mage?" 

"No," I state plainly, if a little harsh. What was it the Templars called me at Skyhold? "I'm an apostate."

The term seems safe enough. I'd heard it on the rare occasion in Tevinter, so I don't think it's unique to the Inquisition. Fenris referred to me as an apostate too. Though, from the man's raised eyebrows, I don't think he believes me anyway. I'm not going to try to explain that I'm Dalish too. That never gets me anywhere. 

"Just a simple apostate, huh?" A snarl slashes across his face- a spark of that mysterious blue flickering in his eyes. "Chantry Templars aren't going to be marching down the Highway in the next hour, are they? I don't know how you got here, but I make no promises to your safety. If Templars are spotted- bet your ass I'm throwing you to the wolves." After a moment, he adds, "That also goes for any demons that come claiming you made a deal with them." 

His brown eyes look me up and down twice. I bite my tongue, trying to keep up with what he's saying. Anger bubbles in my throat at my ignorance of so much. The only demons I've met weren't the talking sort. Could I have spoken to them instead of fighting them off? Am I always going to be two steps behind everyone else in terms of knowledge? Must I ask a thousand questions every time I meet someone new?   
I just nod in compliance.

"I assume then-if any phylactery was assigned to you-it has been destroyed?" He yanks the staff up, holstering it to his back. Waiting expectantly for my answer. 

"Yes," I tell him what he obviously wants to hear. The energy thrumming through my body is still ready and eager. One burst of fire and I could melt his eyes to their lids. It would be a gamble. I genuinely don't know if it's going to be fire shooting out or another blast of that green magic. Though, he isn't trying to hold me hostage. Maybe for once, I've met someone who doesn't want me around any more than I do.

*****  
The self-proclaimed "apostate" stands up weakly. There's no way an untrained mage could send two people at once to the Fade and back without help. Yet, there are no cuts on her hands, and the one on her face isn't consistent with Blood magic. It isn't deep enough to cast such a powerful spell. Then again, the magic that came from her wasn't familiar either. There are indeed other ways to get to the Fade. My time in Kirkwall with Hawk can attest to that. Though, there are no Dalish Keepers here to perform a ritual this time.   
No demon possesses her. That became clear in the Fade itself. Anything of that world should have pushed her soul aside and took full control. Or at least been shoved out of her body. 

Justice burns in contempt for her. He doesn't like to be surprised, let alone surprised by something unknown. The spirit inside of me tells me not to trust her.

~She's probably sent as a spy by the Templar order to find you~ Justice roars. He strains at my carefully restrained control over the entity. The idea isn't out of the realm of possibility. I've survived out in the Arbor Wilds for a little more than six months now. It wouldn't be the first time I'd have to pack up and leave immediately if she did turn out to be another Chantry pawn. My threat to release her back into Templar's custody was empty, however. Forbid the thought of sending a fellow mage back into the hands of those monsters. 

She's dressed like the Dalish, oddly enough. As warm as it looks, the thick furs and tightly woven cloth don't seem enough to keep her from shivering. Probably not used to roughing it in the outdoors. I definitely wasn't prepared when I first fled Kirkwall with the Circle mages. Life out here has only gotten more challenging since I parted ways with them to live on my own.

"Those two Fereldan's back there scared my horse off." She tugs at her sleeves to cover her palms. Reluctant annoyance shows on her ashen face. The defensive wards I keep over my pocket of forest are meant to keep the locals away. If the heavy darkness doesn't scare hunters and travelers away, the Highway bandits usually do. I assume that's who she's referring to. 

"Why didn't you use some of that fancy magic on them?" I ask, genuinely curious. 

"It's hard to control sometimes." She replies defensively. Her arms cross over her stomach, squeezing her sides together nervously. When I bring my eyes back up her's, she looks exhausted.

"Were you on your way to Redcliff? I advise not taking the Highway this time." I aim for a light-hearted tone. She hardly seems a threat to me. Unless all that perceived ignorance is an act, in which case I may just let Justice take care of her. 

Justice practically purrs at the temptation. 

"No. I'm headed to Hawen's camp in the Exalted Plains. Do you know how to get to it from here?" She blinks her large green eyes up at me. So similar to the Fade. I think I've come to hate the color. 

"Er...Is that a Dalish camp? Sorry, doe-eyes. The last time I even heard of one of them was almost a year ago." Her shoulder deflates in disappointment. 

"But I can give you a general direction for the Exalted Plains." I offer. In a simple snap of my fingers, I illuminate the only path someone can use to get out of my wards without becoming lost. The glowing orbs hover- alternating from one tree to the next until the line of them falls out of sight. "Follow the Magelight out of the forest, and you should end up in the Emerald Plains. From there, you're on your own."

The sooner she left, the better. Hopefully, all she'll think of me as is a crazy man living out in the woods and nothing more. If I have any good karma left, I pray to Andraste that she doesn't mention me to anyone. Even one wrong whisper to someone with any inkling about what went down in Kirkwall could be the end.

"Oh. Thanks." I don't need to tell her twice. She leaps into action the best her frozen toes let her. The eclectic cropping of her hair, I can't tell if it's cut like that on purpose or not, quietly blips out of sight as she ventures out of my magic-made darkness. The path I showed her winds for a fair while before the Dales. I meant to only use it as an emergency escape in the event of Templars or, Maker preserve me, Hawk finds me. It was his kindness that saved me from execution by his hands that last day in the city. I fear the next time we meet, I won't find any at all. 

*****  
Cole was quick to catch up with us after wiping the healer's mind. The spirit explained that she had, in fact, needed help when they found her. Emerald hadn't faired too well her first night alone in the Frostbacks. She'd suffered severe frostbite. I don't know if I'm grateful to the Dalish healer for saving her or furious that he did and let her get this far. 

"A horse." Cole breaks the day-long silence we've fallen into. I glance back at Compassion in confusion. He's looking off to his left, a blank expression on his face. We decided to take the more direct route and use the Highway. The three of us can handle a few vagrants and raiders by ourselves.

"Couldn't stay quiet for one day, could you? Always with the cryptic shit." Fenris sits with a straight back, a firm set to his shoulders the entire trip. I don't think he ate anything the last time we stopped either.

"That hunter knew her. His worry has the same shape as her." Cole blinks out of sight without another word. 

"Cole!" I shout. Looking in the general direction he was turned to, I struggle to find anything other than wild brambles or browning foliage off in the forest. "Cole!" 

Nothing. 

Fenris swings his mount back around when he realizes we've stopped.   
"Just send the boy back to Skyhold. He's holding us up more than we can afford." The warrior sounds as tense and impatient as I feel. I can see him flex his hold over the bridle- the white of his knuckles briefly blending in to match the pale tattoos. 

Not a heartbeat sooner, a grey dappled mount comes careening through the thinner part of the thicket beside the Highway's raised platform. Cole sits on its bareback, his broad-rimmed hat tilted down in thought. When the two reach us, Cole's grinning.

"What are you so happy about, ghost?" Fenris bares his teeth. 

"Emeralds is here. There." The boy points off in the direction of the Arbor Wilds. "It sounds like she's talking to someone. He feels like a cat. He's not, though."

I take a deep breath. Finally. 

"I hate cats." Grumbles Fenris.


End file.
